EVERY BREATH YOU TAKE -PART EIGHT-
by Starskylicious
Summary: A story of silence, hurt, love and redemption with a glimpse of hope and a promise of a future.


**ACT 40 \- STARSKY, GIVING THANKS-**

"Dave! David Michael Starsky. It's the last time I call you!"

Nothing.

"Dave, c' mon, dinner's ready!"

Still nothing.

She heard nothing from the room, neither from the bathroom.

"Dave? Motek! C'mon, it's cooled fast. I'm telling you if you insist on being this late every time I call you for dinner; we should end up buying a microwave."

"I'm coming; I'm coming! I'm not six years old. Cool it! You remind me of my mom; you're scolding me just like she does."

Starsky approached her from behind. He was carrying an enormous bouquet of hyacinths in his left hand. They were lavender, pink, blue and cream, and the smell was permeating everything.

"We might… hey!" she lightened up, "What's this? Oh, this is beautiful; you picked them up? For me? Aw, Motek! Why?" She kissed him.

"For you…" he made a long pause and exhaled, "You know what day is it today?"

She frowned, thinking. "Sunday," she said.

"Date," he asked defiantly.

She thought and said, "Mhm, 13?" She was very curious.

"Mhmm, that's it! November 13th." He stared at her, admired her beauty, stroked her and kissed her. "It's been five months since we met that day at Memorial. We hit it off immediately, didn't we?" he winked.

She smiled. "Five months, yes. Five beautiful months" She said, perplexedly.

"Well," He sighed and opened his eyes; he couldn't help but remember the circumstances. "And since I'm sure we won't make it to the Annual thing I decided to start celebrating every month. I decided to celebrate even every instant." He sighed and raised his eyebrows to her and made a face. "Didn't pick 'em up! Bought them for you at the Flower Market!"

"Oh, honey! Thank you, they're beautiful," she said, humbled.

"So you are!".

She stayed silent and pensive looking into his impossibly blue eyes.

He smiled a ghost of a smile, and then he got sad and said, "Why's this bound to be so short, Cary?"

"Aw, my love!" She left the flowers over the table and kissed him passionately while he sobbed. "I'm happy I have the possibility to have met you, Motek. I would rather share one instant in my life with you than face all the ages of the universe alone, not to have met you. I feel privileged. Life's been dazzling, wonderfully generous with me. I have nothing to reproach life."

He kissed her back.

"You sure?"

"I am."

He broke.

"Hey, don't feel sad. I'm the luckiest woman in the whole world to have such a lovely, handsome and incredibly beautiful and sexy man like you in my life!"

"And incredibly dying of cancer!" he added.

"Even if he's dying of cancer!" she shouted. They shared their glances. She wiped out his tears and kept on saying. "I'm rather with you. I wanna be with you. The three of us, the way we're, this extraordinary everyday life we're having, like a family together. This feeling... I haven't ever experienced this feeling before, Dave."

"A family?" He said sarcastically and chuckled a very irksome lopsided grin while retook his position at the table. "You have that need to crash against reality, Caroline! I wonder why you have this need to give noses against the wall. What for? To see if you bleed? Yes! You bleed, darling! So stop hurting yourself and stop dreaming, please! We'll never be a family." He was annoyed, but yet he couldn't help feeling sad too because he knew that he was going to hurt Caroline.

She opened her eyes, confused. "I like to dream, and you've told me that you also like it. Maybe I have this need to blow my nose into a wall to see if it bleeds, yes! But you have developed this tendency to stop dreaming, all of a sudden and just now when it's so necessary. Look," she sat too, "to me you're perfect, and that's all I care, nothing else." She didn't want to argue, but she was annoyed too.

Starsky had turned into a gloomy and pessimistic man so suddenly and after the last batch of chemo from which he had hardly recovered that she couldn't accept it.

"I don't want you to get hurt! That's all! You don't understand?" He raised his voice and then became calmer. "You're gonna get hurt, my love." He changed the humor, instantly. He closed his eyes and stroked her beautiful face, tenderly. "You must accept, for once and all, that this is gonna be ephemeral just like these flowers are." He finished.

She stayed sore and silent.

He shook his head and held her hand since he realized how unnecessarily rude he had been however she remained speechless. "Oh honey, I'm sorry. I don't want you to get hurt. Come on, I'm sorry, but this ain't gonna last, that ain't gonna happen, sweetheart. You know it, Cary. Ours is just a dream. My baby will never have a father, you'll never have a family with me, and we'll never be a typical family. We're far from being perfect. You must as well face it, please." He stood and walked to the French window in the kitchen. He snorted and looked toward the beach beyond the deck. Angry and hurt.

She waited for some time until she could order her thoughts. "Real relationships aren't perfect, Dave. And the perfect ones, aren't real. So what's that? What do you think an ordinary family is?" She went to where he was, touched his arm and turned him toward her. She raised her eyebrows, asking him.

Only silence beckoned her.

"Okay. Imagine that there's a couple, just like you and me. She's a doctor, and he's a cop, only he's healthy. They love each other, and they plan to stay together for the rest of their lives. Geez, they have all the time ahead, and that's all they need to be a perfect family, time!" She made a pause, "You think that that's all it takes? For you, they're a 'perfect and ordinary family' only because they have their time ahead or one damn future?" She stopped and shook her head, and he raised his eyes to her. She kept saying, "Regardless, they barely see each other, their world's about how long his next stakeout or undercover mission might be, or if he was going to come home for dinner or be at home for Christmas with their kids or get promoted to earn more money. Still, they are? Are they, a family?"

He lowered his head cause he didn't stand her stare, and she continued.

"I think not quite! Their world's about when would be the day that she'd finally take that leave of absence that they were yearning for years from the Hospital she works at, to go on vacation together. Oh, Darn! She works a lot! She doesn't have time to be with their children either. She must work a lot, and study and take refresher courses in oncology, and attend conferences. She has to be the best!. She needs so much time for herself and her career that she even has to hire an au-pair because she needs to earn more money to get more money to have more time to be together". She frowned at the absurdity of it all… "That's the way my life's been until I met you. And I don't wanna live that kind of life anymore. That's the kind of time this 'normal family' has, and I don't like that kind of time. I don't like their lives. I like ours. However long it lasts!" She made a pause again thrilled and said. "That's a normal and ordinary American family nowadays, Dave and I don't wanna be those people. I wanna be us. I like my not so perfect world with you."

He kept looking down at the floor, so she raised his head from his jaw and looked him into his eyes.

"I wanna be us. You. This. Whatever it takes, for as long as it takes, like this. I like the way our world together is. The quality of our time together is, no matter how short it is, or it might be, my love. It's exceptionally beautiful. What you've made of me…" she smiled sweetly, "The first time I saw you, I knew that you were going to change my life for the better and that's all I cared. The moment I met you, I knew that I might never be the same girl that used to be, not again, neither live the life I used to live before. Seriously I don't wanna be that girl anymore. You and this, are my new normal."

His eyes were full of tears until he said, "Oh! You're amazing!." He embraced her and while she was being hugged she said, still in his arms. "It's all your fault; you've made me this way. You make me shine with your touch and your love, Dave. Everything I am, the way I am, what I strive to be, everything's because of you. You're the reason and until the baby, the only one I care about."

She separated herself and stared at him, waiting that her truth sinks in his soul; to dwell there forever and take residence.

He had to believe in her.

How much she loved him!

How she wanted to be with him; that he would be her man until the end of times.

To marry him.

"_I wanna marry you, Dave,... Oh! How much I wish that you could listen to me, what I'm dreaming of as if I were Hutch"_, Caroline thought while he kept silent.

He stared at her, and then, he sighed and shook his head to the unspoken words that he had listened with his heart; went to the table and took a seat. He knew, but he couldn't accept it, not if he were going to die so soon. "What for?" He thought. He was overwhelmed and so was she but she insisted... and continued talking. "I love you Dave, and that's final. Since the first day that we've met, from June 13th!" She smiled while he was visibly heartbroken. She approached the table where he was sat. "Yes! You're right, we hit it off instantly, and I love you since then under whatever circumstances you are, because I love YOU, everything about you, even..." she stopped.

He nodded sadly "Even cancer," he said and stood up again, almost on the verge of breaking.

"Yes," she said defiantly finally.

He went to the countertop and put both hands on it, with his back to Caroline and downed his head.

She stopped talking and followed him with her gaze.

"You're mad at me?" she asked, and he shook his head no without saying a word neither looking at her. After some seemingly eternal seconds, he thought better and said, "I'm just gonna uncork the wine."

And he started rummaging in the kitchen drawers trying to find the wine opener.

He put it in his hand.

"_What to say anyway without feeling utterly sad and sorry. It is no use"_, the dark-haired man thought.

She followed every single movement he was doing, in expectation. He could sense her until her voice came again loud behind his back.

"Okay, so if you ain't mad at me, there's a question, a particular subject that I wanna discuss with you, Motek. And I think that this is about time," she finished saying what was already burning her insides, bluntly. "_The hell with everything,"_ she thought.

He turned around to see her.

"A question?" He sighed. He opened the bottle and got back to the table, pinched her on the cheek and gave her a kiss on the forehead before he sat again and began to pour the drink into the glasses.

Red wine for him and water for her.

He knew that Cary was lurking around him; in fact, she had been for a couple of days. He realized that she wanted to say something, but she never seemed to dare to do it. Starsky decided that it was enough, that there was no way he would change her mind about being together or not, so he granted her and asked. "Discuss with me? What? I'm all ears."

"Well, I need to make a sociological introduction to this question first." She started taking a sip of water; she was nervous.

He raised his eyebrows. "A sociological introduction to a question? Kinda preface?"

"Well, sort of. I need to outline my idea first. I don't wanna sound confusing..."

He started sipping the wine, distractedly. "Mh, it's a good Cabernet Sauvignon. What's that? Fettuccine?" he said looking at the platter for the first time and trying to sound relaxed.

"Yes, fettuccine." She cleared her voice and started serving him the pasta. "Everything's sociological, Motek.", she didn't want to delay anymore what she desired and downplayed the situation a bit without giving up on her question.

"Well, you sound like a Media Baron. Who're you? Murdoch or Ted Turner? Looks like one of 'em! Maybe you can partake in Sunday's Primetime in CNN!" he said mockingly and winked at her.

She threw at him a breadcrumb and started playing nervously with the napkin.

"I'm serious here," she stated.

He was tempted to laugh, so she realized and shook her head. Sometimes he could be impossible.

"Well, I'm a little bit nervous," Starsky said. "Last time you became this serious, you announced me that I was gonna be a father... and I loved it!" he smiled. "bet I'm gonna love this too," he said sexily and stretched his arm to her hand.

She smiled again, this time a little more relieved. He took her hand and kissed it.

"Come on, shoot!" he said.

She nodded, "Well, you know that there are certain things that, well… usually, is the man who asks about first, but," She took a deep breath, she cleared her throat, "under these circumstances..."

He frowned.

"Circumstances? Oh! And what does that mean?" he took another sip.

"Well, what I'm trying to say is that it ain't the women who usually talk about certain things in Western societies. This is the sociological aspect of this..." she hesitated.

She nodded, and he also nodded.

"Oh! I guess so!" He said and opened his eyes too, like questioning.

She was still nervous, so she asked him out of nowhere, "You know about St. Brigid of Kildare's tradition in leap years? I mean, next year's a leap year, you know?"

She took his right hand that was lying on the right side of his plate, and he raised his eyes while they intertwined their fingers. He was at a loss.

"What? St. Brigid from... where? I guess not, I don't know." He said and stayed silent for a brief time. _"Girl, you never cease to amaze me. You have so lovely shapes I won't have the time to discover"_, Starsky thought, sadly. While he did it, she continued.

"Forget it! But I was wondering if it would appeal you if I'm the one who asks you about those particular things. I mean, if I do, would it bother you?"

He took a deep breath and put a tender smile on his face.

He put a fork full of fettuccine with his left hand in his mouth trying to make the time last.

"No, I guess not. You can ask whatever; discuss whatever with me but what that question would be?" he kept chewing.

She sighed.

"_Ready, Set, Go!"_ she thought. "Well, the question of the relationship between a man and a woman. About the progress of the relationship between a man and a woman in a particular time frame. If it should be based on shared beliefs, a mutual approach and a common philosophy and project toward society and themselves too."

He frowned, curious "Mmhh, and love I guess. I mean this 'project' is led by what? By love maybe?" He continued chewing, "Isn't it?"

"Oh, of course, love it is, of course."

He nodded; he swallowed and stopped eating. "That's cool! And this question between a man and a woman in love, with a project in common, needs a sociological introduction? That is weird! How's that?" He asked curiously and leaned his head on his left hand, looking through her intensely.

"_You're dreamy,"_ she thought. "Well, yes. Especially now that we're in the eighties. I mean, when the rights of women had gained so much space in the past decades and, right now, are a little bit concealed again, you know?"

"Concealed?" he shrugged. "I don't notice they are, but what about the eighties? I mean, I still feel that you women are allowed to do many things you couldn't do in the past" he tried to reason.

"Oh, yes! I feel it too. I feel like we have these permissions. This new era I mean. The eighties, you know?"

He rolled his eyes, she was nervous and wasn't making any sense at all, and she realized. However, she was scared to ask and to be rejected.

"Oh, yeah? The eighties. As I said, what about them? I thought that the only particular things about the eighties were the dead of disco music, Farrah's weird hairdos, and Reagan's Star Wars". He laughed tempted trying to ease the moment to her and said again. "Regardless, looks like there's this 'sociological approach about the relationship between men and women' that grants you permission to do something?" He made a face, opened his eyes in astonishment, and he started moving his hands again like mocking her.

He put another morsel into his mouth. He chewed and scratched his hair. He smiled and finished saying, "Interesting! Anyway, why dontcha better eat? It's gonna cool faster than you could believe and lemme remind you that we still ain't got no microwave." He winked at her "I mean if you wanna buy one, stop running in circles and just ask me for it, honey! I can afford it."

Now she was the one who rolled her eyes too. "_Men,_ she thought, _how can they be so strikingly beautiful and dumb sometimes, and at the same time so lovely"._ She started feeling awkward.

He realized that the microwave wasn't the reason she wasn't paying attention to the food and his words either. "Cary, hey? Eat."

In fact, he realized that she was trying to find the next words to say.

"I ain't hungry," she said, and he felt her piercing blue eyes carving him. Every second she got deeper and deeper into his skin, waiting for him to understand.

"Ok! I got it! You're tenacious, girl. I got it. You wanna get back to work?. I have no problem with that either, In fact, I would do it myself if I could. I find that it's pretty unfair for you to stay stuck with me here, I mean, you're a doctor For Christ's sake! It's okay. You shouldn't worry. You don't need to turn into a stubborn and staunch feminist, either. I think that that's all right, that we're equals! Women and men, with those subtle and beautiful differences we have, we're all the same. You can get back to work, honey. I can take care of myself." he said amusingly.

"Wait, no! I don't wanna get back to work either leave you here alone. Never! And I'm not a feminist! Nothing further than that!" She was flustered, how come she was so stupid, that she didn't have the nerve to get to the point? _"He'd think that I'm a jerk, and I am! I have to clarify things, and I have to do it now",_ Caroline thought. "Motek, listen. I don't wanna talk about the eighties or the sociological impact of any women's human rights movements. I don't wanna speak about microwaves neither support the social gains of any female minorities nor coming back to work, I just… oh! Damn it!"

She puffed her cheeks and stood up like angry; she didn't know how to address the situation.

"Okay, Hey," He opened his eyes and hands in surprise.

He loved this courageous, tenacious and intelligent woman, so he cracked another adorable laugh again.

"It's not funny!" She said and cast eyes toward him annoyed, but since she couldn't be angry with him, she stood behind his chair while he was sitting, stroking his chest.

He was confused, "What is it you wanna tell me?"

She started giving him little kisses on his neck while he closed his eyes, enjoying the embracing sensation she provided him. She began mumbling sexily and in a soft tone again. "How can I be a feminist if my only concern's one man, one specific man? My whole world's about this charming and handsome man, uh?"

He laughed and nodded.

"I know. I feel your love, my dear!"

Since she was hugging him and kissing him from behind, she could feel how his chest moved before the spasms of laughter and joy he was holding back. He was happy, and he didn't want to mock her, so he asked again, trying to help her.

"So this question, I mean... This is an issue related to a particular man and a particular woman, perhaps? It's more than an intimate question?" he mumbled while she kissed him.

"Mhm… Of course, is about a specific man and a particular woman, and you know damn well who they are."

He immediately forgot the fettuccine, the microwaves, the feminism, the wine and everything else and sat her over him, straddling him.

"C'mere. Oops! What a relief! I thought that you were going to run for Office and fight for women's rights! Even worst! that you were gonna forsake me and leave me alone!" Now he was mocking her, indeed. "Instead, I found that you're talking about me, us? It seems that you're still gonna be with me for some while, then. I guess that you still find me … entertaining."

"Entertaining? Baby, you're scrumptious!" She hurried to say.

She kissed him, and they both laughed.

"However lady, I still don't get this mumbo jumbo you're talking about. I mean how this fantastic and scrumptious man that I am for you and this particular and beautiful second-wave feminism junkie woman you are to me, became into something sociological?" He started smiling that beautiful, stunning smile. "Oh girl, I love your femininity. You're some woman". He reflected.

"Why? Why do you say that?" she was confused.

"Because you're very sophisticated and feminine, darling! It's hard to understand you!" and he smiled.

"Why are you laughing? I'm not complicated. I just…" She laughed even louder than him at the lack of words.

"I mean, what are you talking? What are you trying to explain or outline? Ours is only love, sweetheart! Simple love! Perfect and ordinary" he winked at her previous words " love. You've just said it all before!".

"Ours is more than love, Dave… It's love and lust and adoration and every damn beautiful feeling in this world. Ours is life," she squinted.

"And death." he interrupted her.

"It's not. You know, Dave! It is not!"

"God, I adore you." He stayed for some time looking at her, provocatively.

Inviting her.

She got nervous.

"C'mere, my Helen Reddy! He said, mockingly. "Let's go to bed!"

"Stop it! You're twisted! I'm gonna end this conversation!" She said and started playing like she was fighting him and then relaxed and said "You know I don't give a damn about women's welfare; or definitions of any kind; you know that my best interest, my only interest, is directed to one particular person's welfare. You. That's all that I'm talking about, you and me, you are all I'm talking about" she said seductively

"I know!" He said gratefully and pensively, "But I still don't understand why you're running in circles with this question you wanna ask me. Something you need to say, you want to say and still don't dare to do!"

She looked at him, wondering mischievously. "You sure wouldn't hold it against me? You are not going to think that I'm sassy?" she was still on his lap.

"Not at all! I won't."

And he sat her harder on his lap, stroking her. He pushed her from her butt, making Caroline felt all his masculinity, and then, he dropped his eyes slowly and sexily. He held back those incredibly thick and dark eyelashes that seemed like glued and slowly released them while became severe and manly. "Why should I think that way about you? Cary, hey lady, why don't you try asking me?"

She was very nervous, on the verge of kissing him, rip his shirt in two and make love to him right there on the kitchen's floor and forgetting everything about everything else.

"You don't realize?" She managed to say, barely.

"No," He said seductively, stretching the 'o' and taking a deep breath until he realized and smiled. "But if this is what I'm thinking, I'm afraid that your mother won't be euphoric when she finds out what her little girl's doing." He shook his head and gave a tender smile, "Oh girl, I love you! Are you proposing to a man?" he lowered his sight to the floor, flattered.

"Not to a man. To THE man. You." She reached for his face and kissed him, soundly. "So you have already realized?" she asked him lovingly.

He shrugged.

"But I had to, Motek. You forced me; otherwise, you would have never asked."

"I could ask! I can do it, and I'd do it. I'd love to do it for Christ's sake, and you know it damn well that I'd do it" He said flustered, "but, what for, Cary?" He made the best puppy face she had ever seen.

"For the baby… For me," she touched her belly, their baby.

"For whomever. It has no sense" He suddenly stopped squeezing her and put a worried face.

The joke was finished; the play had ended, and the spell had been broken.

The true was scattered all around them.

"Hey! Should have?" She opened her eyes asking. "Because if so, to me you make all the sense I need, and I'm gonna ask, Motek."

"Shh! It's okay! 's okay!" he slurred with his eyes closed.

He shushed her and stared at her dumbfounded, his rowdy respirations filled all the spaces; he couldn't believe this beautiful and incredible woman, the strength she had.

The length she had gone to get what she wanted to.

She was powerful, and he realized what she was going to tell him, but then he just couldn't believe he could be that happy and sad in moments like these.

And scared.

"C'mere…!" He shook his head in disbelief and sighed. "I can't allow my beautiful Jewish princess to screw up with years of tradition, feminist movements or sociological interpretations aside. I want nothing more in the whole world than to be an ordinary man at this moment and ask his perfect lady if she wants to marry him. That's the greatest thing for me now or rather no. .. No!" He squinted and thought better "No! There's something bigger than that."

"What, what thing?" she asked wistfully.

"What? Words like Lifelong; Forever; Future even Tomorrow! Ring any bell?" he turned so sad that it hurt Caroline, he continued "That the marriage lasts longer than it would do… I insist," he shook his head, "I think this… it won't have any sense. It's not worthy, Cary! Unfortunately, I don't have control over the future, so…"

"Neither do I!" She shushed him, even shouted at him. "Neither do I! nobody has control over the future. Being a cop as you are, you should be well aware of that. Besides, 'sense' is not what I'm looking for, exactly… I LOVE YOU! I love you. And I don't care a frigging damn thing about the future either. I wanna stay here in the present, with you. So let's see the best that we can do with it now, ok? I…"

"Ok, shut up! shut up!"

He shouted even louder than her and closed his eyes, determined. He interrupted her… _"To hell with everything,"_ he thought.

He would be sick, he would have no force in him available, but he would never let his woman feels that he was no man.

"Ok, it's okay. It's okay. I'll do it." He stared at her, his eyes a mixture of desire, supplication, forgiveness, and love, above all. He took the deepest breath his ill lungs could muster, and after a subtle wave of air, he said it. "Marry me."

Her face brightened. "You're asking me to marry you?"

"Yes, I am."

He didn't take his eyes off of her, neither did she, and they both smiled softly.

"I was hoping you were asking me that." She caressed him with infinite love.

"Really? So you should be surprised. It is assumed that this is a surprise. I'm sorry I run out of rings today, but my love's big enough to overshadow Tiffany's shop windows."

"I don't give a damn about rings," she said thoughtfully.

"Oh, that's good news regarding my cop's pension!" he laughed.

She smiled excitedly until he turned serious again and said "So, will you? Marry me? I give you one minute to make up your mind, " and after a little while, he started making the imaginary ticking of the clock with his tongue and smiled "58, 59… Time's over. So? Whaddaya say? You say yes?"

"I say yes! I say yes indeed! Yes, of course! Honestly, profoundly and madly, forever Yes! I say a resounding yes! I'm so in love with you, Motek!"

They kissed and cried and smiled and everything else in between.

"When?" he asked.

"The day before Thanksgiving would be right, okay?" she said hurriedly.

"That's ten days from today!" he said in awe and excitedly.

"I have everything sorted out, Yafe. I wanna be Mrs. Starsky since forever."

She winked.

"Well, I guess that everything's a matter of timing in my life, lately," he said amusingly.

And they both laughed. Despite the sarcasm, happily.

After Thanksgiving, they knew that he was going to start another round of chemo. This time, the doctors were going to try a new radical and aggressive therapy with no hospitalization involved. It was going to be the last attempt at cutting-edge chemotherapy with a new combination of drugs that included the Cisplatin and added Carboplatin. Also, they were going to give him Temodal in capsules to counteract the effects on his liver.

Therefore, during one month until a few days before Christmas, Starsky was going to have a central line in his chest where the drug was going to be injected, daily.

Cary was going to be his caretaker.

The treatment was going to last one-month term. However, they had been already warned that if the disease kept on growing, the doctors were going to decide, depending on Starsky's health and wishes, whether he could still take the drugs. Or the chemo might be stopped.

If he quit, the goal was going to be changed and was going to be focused on just the patient's comfort, but the illness was going to progress exponentially.

That's why Cary knew that there wouldn't be a better moment to make it, to marrying him than before Thanksgiving.

After that, who knows?

Therefore, as she had anticipated, she had everything organized. Everything planned. She had everything in mind and waiting for the big moment.

The wedding was going to be on November the 23rd.

**************************S&H*************************

For the first time since the end of August, he left the Isolated Cell in which he was incarcerated.

Two officers guarded him and took him into custody to the visiting area of the Prison.

"Who gave you my number?" The lawyer who was wearing the three-piece suit approached the table. He was curious. He had never known or seen this man before.

He barely knew about him from the Media.

It was not the kind of work he used to do, but then, he needed the money. His wife was savagely ravaged. She was starving to keep the old economic status he no longer could maintain.

"Let's say that we don't share just enemies," the inmate smiled wickedly, "We also have some friends in common."

He was thinner than he used to be three months before, but still had that icy stare that had launched him to the front pages of every Nation newspapers.

"Like whom?"

"Do I have to say his name?" the prisoner said, intriguing.

"Well, it would be better. Anyway, you already answered part of my question. I assume it's a man," the lawyer said, craftily.

"You're wise, lawyer. Quick. Yes, a man. Richard Dryden. Does it ring any bell?"

"Dryden! Oh yes! Of course, he does," the lawyer smiled.

By the time that Gunther's disaster happened nobody knew that Richard Dryden had played a more than essential role in the assault.

Nobody knew then, nobody knew now.

In the first place to lay the trap in the parking lot, second to reveal the exact location where Starsky had been hospitalized. One month after the attack, tainting a medicine that provoked a near-fatal setback in the cop's health and many other little things.

His participation had been critical. He had been almost mortally decisive.

Neither Simonetti knew about his horrendous disloyalty.

So far, Dryden had emerged unscathed from any accusation.

Seemed to be that he would keep being that way for long.

"He's a great man. He told me he's an invisible man," the inmate said.

"Yes. He was very helpful some time ago. You mean maybe he could be again? Useful, I mean."

"Well, I hope he can be, that we could have the opportunity to need him, again. As for now, he's given me your number, and that's good enough for me since I wanna hire you. I know that you're one of the best."

"You wanna hire me, to be your lawyer?"

"Yes. I want you to be my lawyer. My trial will start in a month most likely, and I need you to help me get out of prison as soon as possible".

"Why's the hurry?"

"I have no time to waste. Time's essential in my case, you dig?"

"I can imagine. If this means that you wanna seek revenge against this particular man, yes, I guess. The word is that there's not much time left in him, isn't it?"

"No, there isn't. So what do you say? You are gonna help me?"

"Well, as a professional I am, I cannot assure you a determined outcome, you know. My duty is simply an obligation of means not an obligation of results. I mean I'll do the job in the most meticulous way I can, but I cannot assure what's gonna happen. Neither can I guarantee that you'll be free in a particular time frame" the lawyer said, explicitly.

"I know, and I don't pretend that kind of certainty, either," He said knowingly. "I also know that if you can't get me out of prison, at least, with your presence in the trial, I will provoke some damage anyway. With you in Court, I'll assure myself a surprise I want to witness impatiently. That is already some success for me. So I'm asking you again, do you accept my defense?" The inmate asked hurriedly.

The lawyer was not very sure, to accept yet. If he'd do it, it was going to be for a huge bunch of dollars.

"You know I'm quite expensive, don't you?"

"Yes. And I have the money to afford the expenses, lawyer."

"Well..., It's a lot of money," The more he tried to demoralize him, the less he got.

"And I have it all. And you're the best. What do you say, you accept?"

The man with the three-piece suit took some time to gather his thoughts. His liquidity was at stake since the massive damage inflicted to the organization four years ago.

"I agree," He said, finally.

"I like to hear that."

They shook their hands.

They lost something more than half an hour analyzing the litigation strategy to winning the case.

The day of the trial was not so far away.

**********************S&H***********************

"So what do you say? My parents and sisters will come from Connecticut, and I was wondering? What about your mom and Nick? What are you gonna do? I guess it's about time you tell your mom, Dave. About everything."

They were talking the day after the proposal, during breakfast. She wanted to know what he was going to do with his mother and brother.

She had started sorting each task, preparing every detail of the wedding. Her dress, the bridesmaids', the catering, the music. She even had called Claire, her friend from Med School, to come from Texas, where she lived and to be her maid of honor.

She moved like a tornado; she was excited, and Starsky was perplexed and immobile.

"Motek, hey… Tell me, what are you gonna do with your mother?"

"I still don't know what to do," he said flustered and elusively.

"Dave, how would you feel, conversely? I mean if she's the sick one, and she doesn't tell you?"

"It doesn't matter how I would feel! Me? I would hate her of course, but that doesn't matter. It all comes to the way she's gonna feel!" He didn't want to bother his mother, however, he was scared he would die without seeing her one last time. "I know how this is gonna be for her." He tried to reason. "She's gonna feel devastated, Cary. It'll kill mom, and I wanna spare her, too. I think that only she's prepared to bury me anytime, because of my work but not because of cancer. I can go, in a hail of bullets, suddenly" he smiled ironically, "and that would do her less damage than this." He shook his head, "You know... Damn! she's a cop's wife, and she's used to that sort of deaths, but this..."

She looked at him thoughtfully. "You're talking nonsense, and you know. Everything that you've said, it's not true, and I won't keep on being your accomplice." She said defiantly.

"What? Whaddaya mean?"

"Just that, that I won't be your accomplice anymore" she insisted.

"Oh, that's good! All right, I have my enemy within" he started clapping at her, "So, you're forcing me to tell her?"

"No, I ain't forcing you. If you don't, or if you can't, I will".

"But you never have talked to my mom!" he said enraged.

"So this will be our first time!" she said without giving him any chance.

He became taciturn, and she could see how distressed he got, so she started stroking his hair, comforting him.

"I think that you don't have to be that strong, honey. That you have to let go, love, please? It's not necessary that you carry all this weight on your own. You have to tell her. You have to depend on your loved ones. It wasn't enough what happened with Hutch for you to realize that you have to tell her?" Caroline realized that Starsky had started to give up; his resistance had been faltering from some time now. "Dave? She's your mom." She opened her eyes to him. He lost his sight, thinking, but she insisted, he had him at her mercy, and she knew. "Motek, hey?"

He nodded and closed his eyes swallowing the lump he had in his throat. "Yeah, yeah, yeah… I know. Okay. Okay, I'll call her tonight."

*********************S&H***********************

"I'm happy you've told Rachel, Starsk"

"Well, I didn't say everything. Just a part of it."

"Anyway, she didn't deserve to be in the dark. I know from experience." Hutch winked to his buddy.

Hutch had arrived at the Beach House at noon.

They had eaten, and they had talked for hours about the wedding and his mother's reaction. The brunet had told Rachel on the phone about his cancer. However, he hadn't told her about how much time he still had, neither the bad prognosis nor the painful details or treatments he had endured, and that he had ahead.

"Yeah, I guess so. Cary talked me into it" Starsky sighed. "Anyway, you know the reason I did what I did for both of you, didn't want to upset you until I knew for sure. I just wanted to avoid you the helplessness; I hate this... whole damn thing, the feelings it provokes. I thought that since you couldn't do anything to repair me..." he chuckled "that it wouldn't be worth the trouble. But Cary made me understand, finally. Besides, I can't get married without mom here, she would have killed me sooner than cancer."

They both laughed.

"So you are gonna marry her, at last." Hutch put his right hand on Starsky's left shoulder. The blond was very proud of his buddy.

"Yes," Starsky said.

Hutch hugged him excited and patted him lovingly.

"I'm so happy about it buddy, so happy, for you and Caroline."

"Yeah, I know."

They remained silent for a moment. They were sat on the deck of the beach's house. They had stayed there for hours, just talking. Caroline had gone shopping; she had already decided that they would wear a tux for the ceremony.

_"Strictly black tie, Cary's orders,"_ Starsky had said pompously earlier.

Hutch was utterly astonished by his friend, his acceptance, and the unexpected reaction of the crummy jeans' ex-owner had been unforeseen and spoke volumes about how he loved her.

Hutch would be his best man, of course.

"I wish that all of this could've been different, Hutch, but then, it wouldn't have happened. So, why not?" Starsky shrugged; Hutch was surprised.

After all these years together, this was the first time that Starsky had had the need to explain himself. He usually did not do it, except when he felt guilty; "_then he must feel guilty,"_ Hutch thought distracted, "_but about what?"_. The blond realized that his friend was still talking, so he continued listening.

"... She's a traditional Jewish girl, I mean with the baby and all, you know. She had everything ready even before I asked her to" he laughed and shook his head "well, I didn't ask her, in fact. She asked me!" He laughed out loud. "I don't know. I guess that I wanna make her feel happy, and she wants to get married, that's all." Starsky raised his eyebrows and stood, leaning on the balcony railing.

"But you are not happy? You ain't sure, buddy? You don't wanna get married?"

The brunet turned around facing his buddy, "Hutch, it ain't that! I love her and, of course, I wanna marry her, that's not it... It's that I don't know for how long I'm gonna stay here!" he lost his sight to the shore again.

From the very beginning of this nightmare, they had never talked about Starsky's death, seriously. Hutch didn't want to, and Starsky never dared. But then, that day, they were both relaxed. They were taking some drinks before the next round of chemo, and the wedding and everything else and Starsky decided that he would do it right now.

That the moment had come and that he would talk to Hutch about his death.

"Oh, come on buddy," Hutch stood and said, "You have fooled them twice before, at least. I mean why don't you think that you can do that once again, as well. Besides, doctors can be wrong. They didn't say how long exactly either".

Starsky smiled; Hutch was still in denial sometimes. "Hutch, please…" Starsky looked at his buddy, and the blond lowered his eyes to the deck's floor. "Who's being the mush brain here now, uh? I need to talk to you about this, buddy. I really need to talk to you." He made a face trying to get Hutch's attention though he couldn't get it. Hutch got back to his chair, and Starsky started his monolog.

"What I have to tell you is the real stuff, pal; the core of the matter. And one day or another we have to face it together. Okay?" He sat again, too.

Hutch raised his wet eyes from the floor, reluctantly and like a little kid nodded, and gave his buddy implicit permission to talk. Starsky started. "You have to know that I feel like I have begun to live day by day; that I'm preparing for my death, and that you should be prepared too. I need you to be ready. I've already written my will, and all my stuff's clear, but..."

Hutch didn't look at him, his eyes were so full of tears, he couldn't stand Starsky's glance as he continued.

"Hutch, Hey partner! Look at me! My death is the only thing in my life I still can control, and I'm ready. I have to tell you that I've made up my mind, and though Cary doesn't know yet, this will be my last attempt with the chemo. I've already decided it, and you must know it, so I need you..."

Hutch interrupted Starsky, "What?" he stood and said indignantly, laughed nervously too, "Oh, come on! Please, Starsk! You're okay now, and you're gonna be even better, soon. You're gonna marry your girl, for Christ's sake! Now, that you're gonna start this new, revolutionary chemo? Who knows? Don't lose your faith! Cancer research is continually progressing, day by day." He crouched beside him, "You shouldn't stop the chemo, maybe, I mean… Hey pal, life doesn't wanna get rid of you, trust me. They'll find out a way to help you."

Hutch couldn't accept Starsky's acceptance. And he smiled, nervous. It was so obvious to him that Starsky still had to fight it, "_so what now, Starsk? Don't give up!"_ He thought.

Hutch was desperate, but he could also realize, that nothing that he was saying was making Starsky change his mind although the brunet kept listening to him, patiently. This time to the blond man's monolog.

"You've always delighted us all, and nothing's gonna change. We're having too good a time together, buddy. Why go anywhere?" Hutch smiled. "Why the rush to talk about these things when there's still plenty of time left?"

Starsky's face was serene and as he spoke again Hutch composed himself.

"There isn't, Hutch, and we can't skip this conversation, not anymore. You've been reading the Steppenwolf, haven't you?" Hutch stood to face the balcony again, his back to Starsky while he was speaking. "You remember Hesse's quote? 'The cup was emptied and would never be filled again'? That's it! I have no more; I have nothing left to give. I'm tired."

Starsky also stood and went beside him and lost his sight to the sea.

"I know, Starsk. I'm fed up to feel this fear too. It's frightening to hear that your cancer has come back or has spread, or barely shrink, and it keeps happening every time you go for a checkup. I've already heard it enough times, and I'm also tired, believe me. Physically and mentally. But I won't let you give up". he pointed his buddy with his index.

Starsky kept looking into the sea, peacefully.

"Hutch, the damn thing always goes forward, never back, and regardless the last tiny hope they gave us; they only offer us more and more pain in return. There's nothing fun about chemo at all. Look, It's been three weeks since my final round, and I still hurt all over, and I'm bruised and…look at me" he shook his head and showed him his arms full of scars and bruises. "The last ones have been very hard, buddy, very hard. I'm sorry, but I can't do it anymore."

Hutch hugged him, trying to understand though it was tough for him.

"I know, Starsk, and I hate it. I wish I could help you cope with the chemo."

"Hutch, you don't understand! I don't feel like keep doing this or dealing with it anymore! If this doesn't work, I'm gonna stop it. I wanna quit. I wanna die in my own terms, buddy."

Hutch laughed nervously.

"Wha-What? Are you drunk, Starsk?" He separated from his friend and smiled, incredulous, he started walking in circles on the deck. "Come on, it's been a long time we didn't drink; that's all! You are drunk! That's it! Stop the chemo? Quit?" he laughed trying to lighten the moment. "The word quit doesn't exist in your dictionary, Starsky! You are much more of an optimist than I am, so…"

Hutch stopped at Starsky's determination, his fierce glance said it all.

The blonde-haired man knew that it was futile. It was going to be a hard fight to fight, but he wouldn't give up, so he stayed impassive, facing his friend with determination too.

"I may be drunk, Hutch, also gloomy too, but tomorrow I'll be sober and fresh and yet, I'll still be dying from cancer. There's no way out of this, so please, listen to me, this is what I wanna ask you and it's been a long time I have to tell you."

Hutch's eyes filled with tears; he knew that the next would be the most bitter words he would ever hear in his life. "When I die, when that happens I need you to help Cary to raise my child, will you? And talk to my mom, at least from time to time. Please, this is important."

Hutch took a deep breath. Besides everything else, this was what Starsky wanted to ask his dear friend to do; this was what really mattered to him. The brunet stayed silent before his friend's grief, but he should say it, needed to, so he didn't retrace and kept going for his answer and insisted.

"Buddy, please, listen to me! I need you to help me. I need you to do it; I need you to talk about it, and I need you to understand me, please? I have to know if you'll be there for my baby and Cary."

"We'll be there, together" Hutch made up his mind and immediately answered. "I can't accept defeat Starsk, I'm sorry. I will not fight with you, but" he shook his head "you can't ask me to accept that you're gonna die. The rest? Of course, I'll be there for Cary and the kid and even your mom, but to admit, let alone accept, that you're dying, that's just not possible. Is so unnatural to me that it just won't happen. It won't happen. I won't let that happen. I won't ever give up on you, and I can't accept that you are going to do that to me!"

Hutch couldn't reason in another way.

"I ain't giving up on me, neither I do it on you, babe! Come on, you have to understand that I ain't making any decisions here. Only I have to be sure that you'll be there for my baby just in case there's no more life remaining in me, that's all. I care for my child, Hutch, and I'm worried! How much longer do you think that I'm gonna live?"

Starsky broke, and so did Hutch.

They hugged each other and stayed silent for a while

"Starsky, I'm sorry. You know I love you, and I understand you."

Hutch kept whispering 'I love you' in Starsky's ears until the moment the brunet regained his strength, and then they got back to their seats.

It was at that moment that the shorter man began to explain the way he felt, how scared he was, how sad and hopeless. "It's okay, but you gotta know that sometimes I wake up to this world, and I feel like a five-year-old; a little boy who has a nightmare. And I just wanna disappear, my mom to come and comfort me," he frowned. "Some other days I wake up, and I feel like maybe God's protecting me. I think that otherwise, the baby wouldn't be here, whaddaya think?" He shrugged and raised his eyebrows like a little kid on Christmas Eve.

Starsky smiled and so did Hutch.

"Today, earlier in the morning, I was in so much pain... I was lying in bed, and I was hurting so bad that I started to pray for my life to reach its end." He made a long pause regaining his air and strength. "But then, I touched my child. And I felt like God was there for me, inside Cary. So though I feel that maybe we are never going to meet, I realized the baby will still be here; a part of me will stay here with my kid, and that made me feel right and gave me hope. It also made me sad. I wish I can make it alive until at least, the moment I can feel my kid moving inside Cary. That's important to me, but I know that maybe neither that will happen, maybe I won't be able to enjoy it. Oh, Hutch! I'm afraid I ain't gonna make it on time. Life threw me a curve ball this time, buddy. Damnit!"

"You think about your baby, pal! I'm sure that you are gonna make it. That child's a God's send. Trust me. I'll be here, beside you all the time, and you'll be here too."

They hugged each other again.

Hutch left the beach house when Caroline arrived.

She was a whirlwind in motion; she was all business preparing everything for the wedding. So off he went, just to not disturb.

However, he felt devastated; his encounter with Starsky's death had been unexpected. And though he trusted himself and was sure that he was going to give everything to retain Starsky, he was also afraid that it wouldn't be enough, so he called Sam.

He needed someone to talk.

********************S&H**********************

"And what did he tell you?"

"I don't know. I feel like I'm losing him. I'm scared that he's gonna die, soon. I listened to him and then when I got back home I played back his words in my mind and thought about them. Starsky's words. Thought about his desperate cries asking for help, and I felt like he was saying goodbye indeed. It scared me."

"Maybe. But it's good that you have this chance. Think about it; think about the other times when you almost couldn't say goodbye or when you weren't aware of what was going on. I know you're scared, and it's understandable, but you must remember this too. It's good to be frightened, Hutch and aware. But besides that, is there any other feeling that you can recognize?"

"I don't know."

"Try buddy, think about it. What do you feel? Fear's paralyzing. Sometimes it masks other feelings, the real ones, the unavoidable ones. People can avoid fear, but they can't help loving. Fear is mean and treacherous and it should be prevented. Love heals and is sincere. And you love him, stick to that."

Hutch took some time before giving his friend his answer until he realized what behind his fears was. "I'm sad."

"Sure you are, it's okay being sad too and It's expectable. But I'm sure there's something else. What is it?"

Hutch tried to understand what was happening to him. It hurt him to find out.

"Nostalgia. I have nostalgia, Sam. I feel as if I had already lost him. Angst, I'm anguished. I have the certainty that my life after his passing's gonna be reduced to be a tribute of our love, that without him… I don't know, I have the certainty that I'll always long for what I'm gonna lose. Man, I really thought that he was going to live forever, I - I don't know." the troubled man shrugged.

"And when he's not here anymore, what do you think you will long for?"

Hutch took some time to answer, he was hurting a lot. "Us. Our times together. What we have been. And then, I remember our days at the Academy." Hutch sighed, a small blow of breath, he made a pause and smiled at the evoked memory. "He was a tough and graceful man, a natural athlete. Starsky was powerful, Sam! I remember him! I was so clumsy at the time… my body weighed tons and I could barely move… he, he was just wonderful" another chuckle.

"You wanna talk about it?"

The blond-haired man smiled, surprised, "Yeah. I remember I used to spend hours and hours exercising, eating concoctions and healthy meals that I prepared myself, and he always beat me at every physical challenge we took at the Academy." He smiled, tenderly. "I berated him about his unhealthy habits but, despite them and my obsessive lording, he always won. Starsky was a natural in everything he embraced, no matter how much junk food he ingested." Hutch laughed lovingly, more openly this time and full of emotion. "He's strong and beautiful and intelligent; he's special, and a unique aura surrounds him in everything he undertakes. Work, women, friends… he is different. I can't take off of my mind his healthy and wholesome image. I can't believe that this is happening to him, that his light, that particular light that surrounds him is gonna vanish."

"He still has it, Hutch. That light still shines. He's such an extraordinary and great man."

"Yeah. I always thought how easy it would have been to hate someone so seemingly perfect like him. He's always gentle and caring; always joyful and in good spirits. I always felt that he's way better than I am. He's more genuine and trustworthy. I never saw him betraying anybody, neither himself though he sacrificed many times for the others' welfare. No way can you hate him, all you could do was love him. All I can still do is love him."

"Yes, you can't help love and the sentiment will always be inside you, it doesn't disappear. Why do you love him? Think about the reasons because they will always remain."

"Why do I love him? Because he's brave and loyal, and he is always such fun. He loves life more than anyone else I've ever met. He is the last person on earth I ever thought would get cancer, that would die of cancer. Not Starsky, not someone like him, he's always been too vivid, and happy and optimistic and full of life. I can't…", he shook his head.

"Accept it," Sam completed.

"I can't, no, I can't. I'm frightened at the mere idea of losing him, the moment when he might not be here anymore when that happens I'll remember his words. They're now ringing in my ears forever."

"And what did he say that shocked you in this way?"

Hutch smiled.

"What did he say?" the blond shook his head. "He was standing on the balcony, trying to give me some comfort, and he said. 'Don't worry partner. We just stop, Hutch. That's it! Next in line gets their chance. So I'm waiting in line, for my time to stop. I'm sorry I am this obedient.' I remember word for word. He always tries to be light and funny."

"And?"

"I just don't wanna him to be obedient this time. I want him to be the stubborn man he's always been, and nobody else to get his chance."

"But there's nothing you can do about it, you can't prevent it. You can't avoid love either, and he is love."

"I know. And he's gonna go anyway if that's what's meant to happen. It's that simple. It's pure and forceful like Starsky is. And maybe… who knows if he was right, we only stop and other one gets his chance."

"Yeah, but there's only one thing you must remember, feel and realize. He may stop; he may even disappear, but he would never mean oblivion, you'll never forget who he was and who you were together because he'll always be your best friend."

"But I have to be stoic, Sam, and I doubt I can be. I don't know if I can do it alone. Not without him. My best friend has cancer".

*******************S&H**********************

The ceremony took place on the deck.

The day was warm, even for late November.

The sun was shining, and the silk canopy full of flowers danced with the wind's breeze and the sea flow. Starsky was visibly nervous though he looked radiant.

He was like a vision.

He had been twenty days without chemo so his suntanned skin, glowed, fresh and healthy. Nobody would have thought that anything was wrong with him.

Cary's family from Connecticut and Rachel and Nick and everybody else from the Precinct and Hope and Memorial was there.

Her sisters, Laura and Victoria and her best friends Claire and Kyleen were the bridesmaids, and they wore beautiful pale pink dresses. While Dobey, Huggy, Nick, Sam, and Hutch, of course, the groomsmen, were in a strictly black tie.

Her sisters couldn't believe what a good-looking man Starsky was, and they were all excited about him since he was cute and loving and adorable.

They were also very moved by what was happening.

Rachel could not stop weeping, for joy, she said, and she even was committed to impressing Starsky about that, making all the efforts to disguise her pain but everybody knew that the old woman was devastated; her mother's sixth sense told her that something was far worse than her boy had already told her.

At 5 PM presided by Laura's daughters who were the flower girls, the Pachelbel's Canon announced Cary's entrance.

She looked like a princess in her ivory gown, right there at the threshold. She was of delicate and serene beauty. Jake, her proud father, carried her through the aisle while Starsky was in awe looking at her.

Since the first time he had met Caroline, he had felt surrendered by her pure beauty.

While Starsky saw her standing there, his eyes shone so impossibly blue that they emitted a radiant brilliance, a scintillating violet phosphorescence like a glow-in-the-dark effect. His eyes were dark and bright at the same time. There was something mystical about them every time he looked at her, so magical that they still shone after sunset; their twinkle persisted for some time after the light of the sun had been switched off by the evening. So, she stayed enlightened by his light until the shadows of the chuppah started embracing everything.

After all, Starsky was still pure energy.

He took her from her father's hand and after hearing the words of the rabbi; he said into her ear softly and chivalrously.

"You're the most exquisitely ornate and beautiful creature that exists in the whole world. Thank you for letting me be your man, Caroline. I love you."

Behind her veil, a bitter tear run down her face.

They signed the ketubah; they exchanged rings and Starsky stomped on the glass.

"Mazel Tov!" Everybody said in unison; and after all the rituals had been completed, they were married.

The first song they danced was 'Never My Love,' by The Association and between music, songs, drinks, appetizers, and friends, the night finally started over. But then something unexpected happened, the hired disc jockey wasn't aware of Starsky's condition, so when the chorus of the Beach Boys song 'God Only Knows' started ringing, everybody broke.

The moment was the most poignant of the party even the ceremony itself; everybody felt their hearts ripped in two. Huggy, aware of the switch in moods that the song had provoked to everybody, hurried and told the man to change it and keep the spirits and the party happy.

However, for Hutch, there was no turning back after that.

He felt angry, even defiant. He went to the terrace, and he kept aloof. Everybody had experienced that bittersweet taste in their mouths after listening to that song, but for him, it had been worse. He broke in shreds. He was sadder than anyone. He wanted to disappear. He couldn't enjoy the wedding and couldn't take off of his mind Starsky's words from the past week, and now the damn song of the Beach Boys ringing in his ears.

It worsened everything.

"_If you should ever leave me._

_Though life would still go on believe me._

_The world could show nothing to me._

_So what good would living do me._

_God only knows what I'd be without you."_

"Oh, Damn! What I'll be without you?", he thought.

Since the past week and his last conversation with Starsky, the mere idea was killing him. The feeling of helplessness had been growing from his toes to his brain, and now it was ripping his heart in two stifling everything else and becoming the only thing in which he could think of lately.

The feeling filled him up with a silent scream that echoed in his ears.

Starsky's words were stabbing him.

_'The cup was emptied, and it would never be filled again… We just stop, Hutch. That's it! Next in line gets their chance. So I'm waiting in line, for my time to stop. I'm sorry I am this obedient.'_

He knew that he had been in denial, at first, but now that the stark reality had sunk in his soul, it was still hard to accept that fucking cancer hadn't stopped. Worse than that, that it had advanced. For the first time, he felt that he was going to lose his dear friend, at least, Starsky's corporeal presence. However, although he knew that he could lose the body he also knew that never, never could lose the love that he had always received from him.

_I may not always love you_

_But long as there are stars above you_

_You never need to doubt it_

_I'll make you so sure about it_

"Damned! Beach Boys!" He shouted and smacked the railing with his hand.

Starsky's love could never disappear. It wouldn't. And he promised himself that he was going to share with everybody his legacy, and he was going to give that love, the one that was going to live in his soul forever. However, what would happen if he shared Starsky and emptied from him? Would he lose him forever?

That fact was killing him.

"Hutch!"

Hutch was leaning on the balcony overlooking the beach, and he jumped, startled by Starsky's voice that took him out of his reverie.

The blond was staring at the horizon to the tide that came and went.

"Hey, Hutch, what's going on with you? You ok?"

"Oh, yeah…" Hutch smiled trying to comfort Starsky. He didn't want to disturb him with his sad mood, so he continued saying. "I was just thinking, buddy!".

"'bout what?"

Hutch smiled excited, "I remembered that time when we hung out at Vinnie's, and you invited me to go 'n eat Mexican? That I didn't follow you in my car, remember?"

Starsky laughed. "Yes, I remember." He shook his head "You and your healthy habits! And why were you thinking about that just now, you didn't like the enchiladas?"

Hutch laughed. "Oh no, buddy! They were great! I was just thinking... just thinking. So many years had passed since that day," he sighed. "We were so young! How many years and I still owe you that dinner!"

"Well, that one among so many others, pal." Starsky smiled at the memory too "It's true, so many years! And you've always been delighted to take my food out of the mouth." He bobbed his head and laughed excited

"We were two kids, Starsk!"

"Yup. We were" Starsky said, visibly moved too.

"You know?" Hutch regained his position looking into the sea "I always thought that I would never like to grow old. And now, I mean, being old's the only thing that I wanna be," He returned to Starsky. "If we were old, Starsk it would mean that we can survive this." Hutch shrugged, his eyes full of tears. He just couldn't help feeling sad.

"Hey, you're gonna survive this, buddy."

"I meant us, Starsk. We. God Damnit! Don't you go anywhere! I'm gonna miss you so much."

"Yeah, me too."

"_No man is an island entire of itself; every man_

_is a piece of the continent, a part of the main;_

_...any man's death diminishes me,_

_because I am involved in mankind._

_And therefore never send to know for whom_

_the bell tolls; it tolls for thee." Ernest Hemingway_

"_If Starsky dies, a large - the best - part of me will die too."_ Hutch thought.

**ACT 41 – The Judgment's Day -**

The storm season was in full swing, in fact, no one understood how the day before, had been so lovely.

From November 10th, it had been stormy and windy; except for the wedding day when the weather had taken a break, but November 24th was a real Thanksgiving Day. With high winds, thunderstorms and everything else.

After the wedding, they celebrated the holiday with their families, Hutch, Sam and Cary's friends at the beach house. Starsky was in superb moods, visibly happy and satisfied and so that way, they were all. He even enjoyed how Hutch felt very attracted to Victoria, Caroline's youngest sister; the brunet was very joyful about it and gleefully took pleasure in the way he wooed her.

Rachel and Debbie, Caroline's mom, had settled a silent but friendly competition.

The battlefield, the kitchen.

The challenge?

They were both trying to establish whom of them the best cook was. As a result of which, they were all benefited.

The meal looked yummy.

Starsky couldn't help but feel a little bit blue about the celebration. The homely sounds that were coming from the kitchen reminded him of better times, happier times with all his aunts and cousins in Brooklyn when he was a kid, and there were lots of Thanksgiving Days ahead.

"Why are you so schmaltzy, Davey?" Rachel had asked him.

"I'm not schmaltzy, mom. I'm okay, I'm all right." he had told her.

Fortunately, the woman had been very busy all morning, and she hadn't had time to spend on sentimentality. She had a job to do and excellent culinary skills, unquestionably; Stuffed Turkey with the Green Bean Casserole and the Cranberry Sauce were delicious. Rachel had prepared Starsky's favorite baked pastries too: Chocolate Rugelach and Sufganiyot filled with custard, and her son had celebrated her effort as he did when he was a little boy. With those incredibly big blue eyes wide open full of excitement and amazement. He was delighted in expectation with the sweet stuff. "Oh, my Boychick!" She had squeezed his cheeks with a kiss, "Look at those stunning and big blueberry eyes you've got. You're cute, Davey, but your eyes..." she had shaken her head "your eyes are the most beautiful in the whole world, dear son. They mirror your pure heart and kind soul! There's a light in your eyes... You remember these goodies that mom cooked for you have such a geshmak, don't you?"

He nodded in silence and smiled thrilled at the scented memory.

She felt like she was in the old family house in Park Slope waiting for her kid to coming back from school. However, her joy was going to be short at the realization of how little her boy could eat. Starsky hadn't even been able to finish one of the goodies. The aftershocks of the chemo were still present. Nick had to comfort her when he found Rachel in the kitchen, barely holding herself and utterly disconsolate. She was disheartened. She choked in tears at the realization of how sick her beloved Davey was. Whether he had told her or not, she didn't care. She knew. She had perceived with her mother's heart, how sick he was, though she hurried to avoid her firstborn son the worry to notice how despondent she felt. She made every effort to do so. So did everybody else.

Therefore, the celebration was an enormous success, charming.

All of them had purposefully avoided some of the most important customs of the festivity like the prayers before the meal, which had been deliberately skipped, and nobody dared to remember. Wasn't matter of getting melancholic or emotional, they had to avoid sentimentality, so they watched the Steelers and the Lions on TV and Macy's parade and Rachel gleefully amused them with her stories.

Undoubtedly she was Starsky's mom.

The adorable and loving woman charmed them all, telling one by one, all her adventures since 1924 when she was only three years old, and the first procession began. She had attended every edition of the parade for almost sixty years since then. This time, her first time out of New York.

Caroline's family would stay until Sunday too; they were going to depart to Connecticut that day, but Rachel was still deciding what to do. She was torn between staying or leaving, as her son had asked her to. She wanted to stay, but he didn't want to. Starsky had never told her the severity of his state, indeed. He hadn't told her that the oncologists had predicted that he would not live beyond May or June, regarding the progress of his cancer, hopefully. He thought that there was no need to do it.

Maybe there wouldn't be necessary.

Besides, he didn't want his mother to be around when that happens either, so he confessed to Nick the truth and asked him to convince her to get back to New York.

"I'm asking you, please, kiddo. They're gonna admit me on Wednesday to start the chemo. I don't want her being around here when that happens, Nicky." He begged to his brother. "You know how she gets when we're sick; it won't make her any good!"

Nick Starsky was silent, sad and scared. How could this be happening to his big bro?. He had always idolized him.

"This is not like when we had the chicken pox, Dave. You're not just sick, brother!" Nick said flabbergasted.

To Nick, his brother had turned into someone flawless, almost perfect. There was a time in which he had been harboring old grudges toward Starsky. But after his last trip to the West Coast, four years ago something had changed forever. After realizing that his big brother was willing to put his life at stake just to take care of him, and even more after Gunther, Nick had found out the real Dave. And the two brothers, finally, had been able to iron out all the rough edges they held up against each other. Nick finally had realized that the decision of leaving New York when he was a teen had not been his older brother's decision. Nick had realized what kind of a man his brother was. He knew that he could always count on him. After the assassination attempt, he had started dismissing the sentiment of abandonment that he used to feel. Until cancer, he thought that he had begun to get his brother back, that's why this piece of news about Dave's terminal diagnosis was devastating to him. Now that we have each other, why? The younger Starsky couldn't take out of his mind that single question. This is very unfair, brother.

"Nicky, nothing's gonna change if she stays here; it'll only be five or six more months 'till the end. My story with mom's much more than that, much more than this damn thing! I don't wanna make her suffer, that these are her last memories of me. I don't wanna her to see me dying of cancer! I wouldn't have told mom if it hadn't been for Cary, please, this time, you help me?"

"But Dave, I mean, mom knows, Dave. You think she's dumb? She feels it; I'm sure."

"Out of sight, out of mind," Starsky said bluntly.

He had told his mother he would go to New York for summer vacation to see her. He had told her that he was taking the medicines and that he was doing the treatment and that when he finished it, he was going to go home, even with the baby.

Only to comfort her.

"Oh, come on! It won't work brother! You're her Davey, she loves you, and it won't work!" Nick was sure that that decision would be more harmful to everyone, but then, he couldn't have ever denied anything to his big brother.

Starsky stayed undaunted; nothing would discourage him. He also knew that he had the winning hand, that he had to wait for the perfect moment to insist. That Nicky wouldn't be strong enough to fight him. He knew he had that kind of power over his younger brother, so he raised his eyebrows like asking. "You remember which is the home team, don't ya Nicky?" and Nick realized that he was not enough to match him.

"Ok, but if it gets worse, you get worse, or - or I can't manage her, I'll bring her back to you here."

Starsky smiled before an authentic Nick Starsky always apologizing in advance, always trying to dodge his responsibilities.

"Yeah, okay, kiddo! But you put your damn best, and take care of her, will ya? After all, one day soon, you'll be the only one, at last." He smiled and winked at his little brother and hugged him. "Thank you, now I feel at ease with my soul. You're a grown-up Starsky now Nicky. I'm proud of you; I can go in peace. Mom will be in good hands." Starsky smiled at his baby brother; that was the way he still was for him.

He had just deployed one of his ultimate strategies, encouraging people and making them believe that they could face everything so Nick can feel stronger.

It wasn't easy; Nick Starsky still had tears in his eyes.

"I still wanna remain the little brother, Davey. I need you, always will," he said.

Rachel and Nick took off in the first flight on Tuesday morning.

************************S&H**************************

On Wednesday, Starsky went to Hope, and they put him the central line in his chest. The procedure turned out to be a little discomfort, but nothing he couldn't stand, so far. Until December 22, they were going to treat him with Carboplatin and Cisplatin and Temodal Capsules at home.

Give those drugs a new try.

The good news was that though the treatment would be more invasive, the side effects were going to be less harmful, and he would be able to testify in Parry's Trial, hopefully.

The first hearing starting in December, the 7th.

************************S&H**************************

"How do you feel?"

Hutch asked him before they entered the gallery of the courtroom.

"I feel good; I'm okay." He patted Hutch in his chest.

"You're pale, Starsky."

"Nah…" The brunet closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Hutch caught him by his arms and suddenly said.

"You listen to me buddy; you don't have to do this, okay? Sam has received a subpoena, and I'm gonna testify, you don't need to do it yourself." Hutch was worried sick; he didn't like the way Starsky looked and the horrible wire that protruded from his chest bothered him even more.

"I need to do it, Hutch, lemme do it, please? It might be my final stand perhaps, buddy! Will Ya?" Starsky stopped, only to catch his breath and sighed. He finally said. "I've lived a life to the fullest. I don't wanna spoil the end of it with a chickened-like act." The brunet shrugged and chuckled, "Besides, this is the only blaze of glory I could get at short notice before I leave," he winked, "I'm sure I won't make it to Bolivia, Sundance."

And Hutch nodded, defeated at the evidence of Starsky's logic.

They entered and sat in the pews behind the bar.

15 minutes later the Bailiff announced the entrance of the accused.

Madoc Parry was the devil itself.

The moment he entered the Courtroom he cast a creepy glance toward Starsky. Mysteriously, as if he was a radar, the man had noticed the brunet's presence; he had sensed him, as soon as he had crossed the Courtroom door.

The encounter had left Starsky with an ill feeling and Hutch on the verge of a nerve-racking crisis.

Everybody was outraged, aside from Parry, who was also very nervous. They were all holding their breaths in expectation, and waiting for the show to begin.

The old and prestigious Judge Richard Prescott was presiding. The District Attorney was Harry Moore, and the defense lawyer was, nothing more and nothing less than the very same Jonathan Wells. The indescribable piece of scum which had been linked to the attempted murder, years ago.

His presence was a shock in itself. When Hutch saw him, he had to explain Starsky, who he was. At the time of his meeting with the lawyer, Starsky was in a coma at the Hospital, and he barely remembered those shadowy moments. Starsky had never been with the coward man, face to face. Wells had been the lawyer who had bailed Jennie Brown, the girl who had paid Gunther's goons for the hit. Hutch didn't know how the low-life shyster had been able to emerge unscathed from Gunther's blast, but there he was, defending the indefensible again.

It couldn't be otherwise.

Life was coming in full circles.

The jury was also waiting. They had been randomly selected throughout the State, and they had been secluded for more than ten days before the beginning of the trial. They were six women and seven men, and they were anxious too.

Like everybody else was.

Wells' defense consisted of some 20 witnesses who were going to attest to various aspects of Parry's weird behaviors and describe how queer he was. Phony witnesses, of course. Paid witnesses.

They were going to try to show that he couldn't understand the core of the matter, the nature of the acts he had committed because of his mental and sexual disorders which prevented him from achieving it.

They were going to try to explain how bizarre the man was.

The lawyer wanted to force the Jury to conclude, that every hellish thing that Parry allegedly had done to his victims, every nightmarish thing that had entered his mind was a product of his mental illness. The defendant's attorney would insist on talking about the man's lack of awareness or sense of reality.

However, the detailed, meticulous and planned medical strategy inflicted towards Starsky's ailing body didn't seem to fit quite right in his theory and reported of someone very well aware of reality.

Conversely was indeed the milestone of the DA's case, the central point in his accusation and what Wells knew he had to destroy.

Naturally, it would be the easiest way to achieve the exculpation by mental illness or at least a mitigation.

Anyway, what seemed obvious was that Parry fully aware of Starsky's poor health condition had tried to keep him alive by all means.

Only to torture him.

Also, the risk was that the DA office might demonstrate the fact that Parry had been a former student at the UCLA Faculty of Medicine for almost three years in the past. If they could prove it, it was going to be very difficult to carry on the defendant's theory and the strategy would be terminated.

Therefore, since it would be pretty challenging with all the evidence against, to convince the jury that his client was a crazy man, Wells had decided not to delve into that issue. If he did, the case would be over, closed and his client convicted.

Chances were that it was what was going to happen.

But then, what were lawyers for?

After all his witnesses had testified, during the first two days of trial, Wells threw the question out to the jury:

"This man has to be crazy since neither the devil performs those incredible appalling crimes. So what do you believe?"

Sam was the first of Moore's witnesses that the Courtroom Clerk called to the bench on Friday, December 9th.

His testimony, regardless of Parry's alleged privileged communication, was invaluable.

Without going into the details of the crimes committed by his former patient, which neither he knew, he described each and every one of this monster's psychological characteristics. In fact, Sam had been the first person who had fathomed the chasm of Mad Parry's deprivation. The shrink had somehow obtained his trust and had been the person to whom Parry had confessed some of the details and the motives of the murders and felonies he had committed in the sixties. He also had admitted his reasons.

"Dr. Ressler," Harry Moore started asking, "would you please tell the Jury the circumstances in which you have met Mr. Parry?"

"I have met Mr. Parry 5 years ago."

"Why have you met?"

"Well, while he was an inmate at Folsom Prison, he experienced episodes of acute mania interspersed with episodes of severe depression. That's why the governor decided to transfer him to Cabrillo regarding the other inmates' safety. That's when we met. I was his psychiatrist."

"These episodes, could be described as a mental illness, in a scientific way?" The elegant DA, Harry Moore continued curiously "Level with us, Doctor, please."

"Not at all! Mental illness is different than a mental health condition or disorder. Many people have mental health concerns from time to time, and that doesn't mean that those people are insane. Parry isn't."

"And what is the difference?"

"Mental illness happens when ongoing signs and symptoms cause frequent stress and affect people's ability to function, not only their mood, thinking or behavior, but also their cognitive skills."

"Could you be more specific?"

"Mental illnesses exclude the knowledge, consent, and the responsibility, counselor. It is not Mr. Parry's case."

"And what is Mr. Parry's case?"

"Mr. Parry is a psychopath, he is not an insane man."

"And what's the difference between mental illness and psychopathy?"

"Well, the main feature of these people is that they have emotional anesthesia; that's why they don't feel guilty of anything, I mean they feel emotions but only shallowly. Therefore, they are not the suffering ones, but the people around them who are objects to be manipulated and destroyed without any concern. The emotions that they can feel are anger or sadness, but only when things are not as they want. They are only moved by those interests and to reach them, which is to gain mastery and power over their environment, they can 'simulate' but don't feel."

"You mean they can't feel anything?"

"No, nor love, compassion, solidarity, tenderness or feelings of friendship, none of them. But I repeat, they simulate those feelings when they need them only to achieve their goals. Any strategy is valid to get the maximum pleasure for the psychopath which is to override the will of another person in whichever form they decide to do it. To exploit, attack and prove their superiority and contempt for his victim, whether in the sex, their personal relationships, everything."

"They are also known as "insane without delirium," right? Can you explain that to us?"

"Oh yeah, they are not insane because they preserve the ability of trial, knows the difference between what is right or wrong, but don't care about it since those limits are not for them."

"Thanks, Doctor, pretty clear. So, tell us please, for how long did you treat him?"

"For three entire years." Suddenly Sam felt very uncomfortable since Parry's eyes were stuck all over him. The psychiatrist had to lessen the knot of his tie.

"Three entire years" the DA repeated, aware of the doctor's discomfort and giving him some more time to settle "And which were your findings of Mr. Parry's psych after that?"

"Well, Parry has always had fantasies about having sex with men..." Sam made a pause; he felt how Madoc's evil stare pierced him, but he decided to go on. "However, he couldn't achieve it, never, and that same fact also aggravated his general state. "

Sam rasped his throat, so the Court's Assistant offered him a glass of water. He drank.

"Thanks," Ressler said.

"And you say he was aware of it and harbored a resentment regarding this incapacity; that he held a grudge?" The DA's voice came after he sipped the water.

"Yes, he begrudged others' sexuality." Sam looked at Parry. He could say that the man was in turmoil, so he decided to push a little bit now with his testimony. "He didn't like to be discussed in his sexual' choices. Mad didn't feel comfortable when he had to talk about his sexuality. Nevertheless, he did nothing about it until he was 21 years old."

"What do you mean he had done nothing about it?"

"Well, he never accepted himself."

"Why not?"

"He couldn't because his father always rejected him. His father hated him."

"Did he tell you?"

"Yes, many times. It hurt him a lot."

"And why didn't he love him?"

"Because he was not what he expected him to be. When he was 20 years, he was incarcerated by former Detectives Dobey and Jackson, for molestation and while in prison a man raped him. His father never talked to him after that episode," Sam ended.

"Was he raped?" Moore frowned, interested. The lawyer made a cinematic gesture. He attempted to look surprised trying to destabilize the accused and capture the jury's attention, and Sam looked straight into Madoc's crazy eyes. He felt that he could read his former patient's mind.

_I hate you Sam; this is a staging. The DA's pretending that he didn't know, but he did… yeah! I've been raped because I'm gay! You want to go and tell them? No worries. I'll have it back, buddy, and I'm gonna hurt you, bad. Trust me. You left me, and I'm gonna hurt you._ Parry thought.

"Yes." Sam made a pause; he knew Madoc would get mad; in fact, he was challenging him, but nonetheless, he must tell the truth. "Yes, Parry was raped, and that situation triggered his desire, ignited it. It was after that episode when he started his frenzied spree. He hated Dobey and Jackson because of that."

"You mean he raped someone in return? He was incarcerated because of that?"

"No, no, he didn't." The doctor shook his head and looked at Mad,_ I'm sorry, Madoc,_ he apologized, silently. "He was, still is, chaste, though he isn't impotent. The psychological damage that his father has inflicted on him has been devastating and prevented him from having intercourse with anyone. He never raped anyone, let alone made love with anyone, male or female. He's homosexual and his father, Reverend Parry despised him for that and always stressed the virtues of all other men above his." Sam lowered his head; he felt that somehow he was betraying his former patient since Parry's sharp light blue eyes were all over him. "I wasn't referring to a sexual spree, in fact. I was just saying that his rape triggered his killing desires. He just wanted to right his wrongs. Because he knew..." Sam was appalled; this didn't appeal him at all.

"Are you okay, Dr. Ressler?" Harry Moore asked, curious.

"Yes. Excuse me. I was saying…" He drank again in his words and continued, "all other men, all of them, were better than he was and were more worthy, more valuable through his father's eyes. That's why he genuinely hated those masculine qualities that he lacked, and at the same time, he craved them. But as long as he could not have them, he learned to make them disappear, killing those men who represented those features. He only wanted to please his father, so those particular masculine features were which motivated the particular selection of each one of his victims. Making those men disappear, would make his fault go too. There wouldn't be any evidence to his father."

Harry Moore nodded; Ressler's words were unyielding, the depth of them colossal, so he gave the man a little time to recover. "Okay, I got it. You also, said that Madoc Parry hated Detective Dobey and Detective Jackson, would you please tell us why? I don't find the connection."

"Well, he considered that they had been responsible for everything that happened in his life after. He was sure that this crookedness he was born with had been highlighted by the man who had raped him in jail. He thought that the only one who had noticed his sexual orientation was his father, which prominently pointed it, and he believed that he was the only one who was well aware of it. The sexual harassment brought to the fore his homosexuality and exposed him. Before that episode, he could manage it after being raped he just couldn't and he was sure that Dobey was guilty of that. He blamed him. He wanted to punish him. So upon release, he planned his revenge, slowly, and thought about to kill Elmo first."

"Elmo?" Moore asked.

"Elmo Jackson, Captain Dobey's late partner."

Ressler was suddenly interrupted by Wells.

"Objection, your honor!" The attorney snarled, and Sam raised his eyes to the other side of the bench. "I state the claim of privilege, the confidential communication between patient and psychotherapist including information obtained by an examination of the patient, which is granted in Evidence Code Section 1010-1027."

"Dr. Moore?" the judge asked the D.A., imperturbable.

"Your honor." Moore bowed his head. "Mental health professionals have a duty to protect individuals who are being threatened with bodily harm by a patient. In this case, Dr. Ressler's behavior has been amply described and protected by the California Supreme Court's precedent in Tarasoff vs. Regents that held the 'duty to protect' intended victims."

Harry Moore was one passionate man but, at the same time, a cool and wise man who, above all, knew he had a case in his hands, and he wouldn't fail.

"Objection overruled," Prescott said, and he declared with the force of law. "The interests of justice in obtaining the information outweighs the protection. So disclosure is compelled by this court of justice since the interest of this Court is not only to warn the most likely victims but also to protect them."

Judge Prescott, 25 years of trajectory in Court had been clear enough, he glanced at the DA and gently motioned to Sam, "Your witness, Mr. Moore."

"Thank you." The attorney savored his little victory with a knowing and defiant glance to Wells "...you were saying, Dr. Ressler, that he planned to kill Dobey's partner. Did he achieve it?"

"No, he didn't. Elmo Jackson had been the chosen one because Dobey admired his friend. Elmo was intense, witty and more opened than Dobey was; the man was naturally talented. He drew attention, wherever he was everyone was attracted to him. He was charming; that's what Parry told me. However, the police officer's death at the mercy of the mobster who killed him left Madoc with emptied hands and very irritated. So enraged, that one misstep made him being arrested for David Neumen's death. The last of the first batch of killings and the only one he has been accused of and incarcerated for."

"Who was this David Neumen?" the DA asked.

Harry Moore knew that they were approaching the point. He also knew that he had to push Ressler to the limit to tell them everything. That the Jury and the Judge and everybody else would understand that the man who was sitting on the other side of the bench were guilty. And sane, most likely.

He knew he had to push harder.

Sam gathered himself and answered, softly. "Parry attended UCLA's School of Medicine for five semesters. David Neumen was a fellow student; he was very handsome, very male, the most popular among all the girls and an excellent student and athlete of whom he was secretly in love. When he killed him; he was delayed at the crime scene because he just couldn't let go of him, he thought he loved him, and that distraction was fatal. He got caught because of that."

"Ok, so we can conclude that the defendant here is a homosexual indeed who hates his father and every fatherly and masculine figure who happens to appear in his life. Do you mean, he hates every distinctive characteristic that he relates to masculinity too?"

"He does, sort of," Sam answered.

"Good! Anyway, which was the link to this new round of crimes that related you to the former ones, Dr. Ressler?" _Come on, Ressler make it count!_ Harry Moore thought.

Sam leaned back in the chair, deflated and then he sat straighter. He felt the weight of the world upon his shoulders; he had to develop his theory word by word so everybody else could understand the kind of man Parry was. So, before saying his lengthy statement, he scraped his sore throat, quietly.

"Well, first of all, as you can appreciate, Parry's line of thought is very straightforward and simple, it's lethal too that's why he committed the aberrant acts that were described before, to translate those ideas. So I only knew that he was going to kill again; I just knew it. That's why I went to the Police Headquarters when I heard about the first crime more than one year ago. I knew it's been him, in the first place," the shrink nodded. He made a pause. Took a sip of water before, and continued. "Madoc never overcame the rage stage…" Sam kept going and fixed his eyes on Parry. "He hated Dobey; that's why he wanted to kill Elmo to show him the worth he had, how powerful he was. Somehow he knew that the Captain was dependent on his partner, and he wanted to accomplish meaningful and transcendent things to hurt him." Ressler pulled a face in sympathy toward Dobey, who was bent in pain among the people of the public and then, he continued saying. "Dobey had arrested him but despite that fact, he also had been very paternal to him. Parry always told me the way in which he talked to him at the Precinct the first time they met. Then, he felt that he had ruined his life since he had promised to protect him and hadn't done it. Worst, after some short time enclosed, the police officer also testified against him, dishonoring the promise that Parry believed the Captain had made. He blamed him, especially for the situation that gave out what he wanted to hide from everybody else during all his life, his homosexuality. He thought that Dobey had left him abandoned to his fate in a seedy cell in a filthy prison, unprotected and exposed to everybody. Exposed to his Ghosts, those that the man who raped him highlighted. He couldn't forgive him that. He burnt all evidence of his existence because of that. He couldn't accept that he had disappointed his father to such point."

"Excuse me, Dr. Ressler," Jonathan Wells' Voice surged again from the other side of the bench. The lawyer stood up; he felt that that was his opportunity to destroy Moore's strategy. "May I? Your honor?" he signaled to the Judge, for permission to ask a question to the DA's witness, Dr. Sam Ressler.

Judge Prescott granted with his head. "Be my guest, Mr. Wells."

The shorter man with the three-piece suit turned to Sam and asked him defiantly. "You've mentioned the fact that you had anticipated Parry's insane behavior,"

Sam interrupted him, "I never said his behavior was insane!"

Wells smiled, satisfied; he loved to play with intelligent opponents. "Okay, whatever, Dr. Ressler, but you've mentioned that you knew that he would kill again, right?" Sam nodded, and Wells also nodded. "So why is it that when you went to the Precinct to warn the Police about Mad Parry's behavior you didn't realize how connected to Captain Dobey your patient was?"

Sam doubted; he hadn't ever thought about it. "Ah, well I didn't know I- I didn't make the connection. Parry never mentioned Captain Dobey's name," he said nervously.

"He didn't and you didn't make the connection. Okay, since you are a doctor I guess that, well, maybe you weren't trained to do so, but what about the Officers in charge of the investigation. I mean Sergeants Starsky and Hutchinson, how come they didn't realize?" Wells' tone was doughy and tricky, disgusting and pedantic.

"Well, we never discussed it before; I've never mentioned before..."

"No more questions, your Honor. Thank you, Dr. Ressler." Jonathan Wells interrupted Ressler's statement, and he sat.

"Your witness," The Judge said to Moore.

The DA realized the road Jonathan Wells had decided to follow. It was an old strategy to try to turn the odds against the accusations and transform the victims into perpetrators.

Harry Moore decided he had to make his best effort to avoid the worst scenario, so he asked Ressler again, retracing the same questions one more time very slowly. "Dr. Ressler, when you arrived at the Police Department one year ago, what did Captain Dobey and his men do?"

"I don't understand."

"Which was the first clue they decided to follow, what were the antecedents they looked for?"

"Oh, yes. At my request, they contacted Folsom and Cabrillo, and they asked for Parry's files. They also phoned their Headquarters to get Parry's Police's records."

"And what did they find?"

"Nothing."

"Nothing? How's that?"

"There weren't Police's files or Medical records about him."

"That's not possible! You mean that there weren't any records or photographs or anything related to this man?"

"No, there wasn't anything."

"So neither Captain Dobey nor the Detectives assigned to the case saw his face or took knowledge of the circumstances in which he was incarcerated in the sixties?"

"They didn't. They made me describe Parry's features and made a sketched portray. There wasn't anything else to do. Besides the fact that twenty-something years had passed and his name didn't ring any bell to the Captain, obviously."

"That's understandable. And tell me, what had happened with the archives? Do you know why there weren't any files?"

"Yes, I know. There were three arsonist's episodes at Cabrillo State, the Francis Howard-Goldwyn Library and the Penitentiary where he was incarcerated, and there weren't any records about Parry. A few orderlies and nurses and I were the only ones who had seen him; the Police only had a sketch-up about his face. Parry was a mystery, uh and as I said, Dobey didn't remember his name."

"The Captain didn't remember? Oh!" Wells said sarcastically. "Excuse the interruption, your Honor. I've let myself be carried away by such an enticing testimony, but may I?"

The judge gave him the word with a subtle movement.

Wells put his hand over his mouth and turned around to meet Dobey's frantic eyes "… and how come they realized that Dobey was connected to Parry, Dr. Ressler? Somewhere in the middle of all this I mean, they had to find out. When did that happen?"

Sam was visibly agitated; he couldn't fathom to where those questions were leading him.

_Where is this going to?_ Harry Moore thought, too. He couldn't object Wells' questionnaire since his questions happened to be proper.

"Well, Detective Starsky found out in Parry's old reconstituted files that Dobey had been the Police Officer, who had arrested him. He had personally asked for the microfilmed records to Folsom's Authorities." Sam said knowingly.

"When?" Wells hurried to ask.

Sam was getting increasingly nervous; he couldn't stand Wells' arrogant tone, and he hesitated, "Oh, well It took some time to rebuild those files, I - I…"

"When, Dr. Ressler?" Wells asked irritated.

"Oh! I don't remember!" Sam said nervously.

"Objection, Your Honor." Harry Moore came to his rescue, but he wasn't successful.

"Objection overruled! The witness must answer. It's a simple question," said Judge Prescott.

Wells bowed and repeated the question slowly. "When did Detective Starsky realize that Captain Dobey had been the officer who arrested Madoc Parry in the sixties?".

Sam opened his eyes, searching for Moore's solace. It wasn't easy. The DA nodded and allowed him to answer. _Don't break Sam, and tell the truth_ that was his silent message.

"Well, I guess at the beginning of June. Shortly before he was kidnaped …" he stopped.

"June? That's two months before the alleged abduction!" Now it was Wells again, "And what happened then, what did he do? What did Starsky do after such an astonishing finding?"

Sam was angry, those months at the beginning of the summer were a blur in his life.

In everybody's lives. They coincided with Starsky's diagnosis, the separation, and the uncertainty, but he answered anyway, keeping the faith and the truth, above all.

"Well, after that, Detective Starsky became sick, and he retired from the Force and then he - he left."

"And what about Detective Hutchinson? What did he do?" Wells asked trying to sound innocent.

Sam snorted, even chuckled with indignation. "Well, when Starsky quit, that was what he thought, Hutch was emotionally devastated. He couldn't do anything about it. The investigation, I mean… You know."

_This is it!_ Wells thought, and he hurried to say "So they were quite close, weren't they? Starsky and Hutchinson I mean, were quite tight friends, right?"

Sam couldn't say a word.

He knew.

Everybody knew what was what Wells was trying to suggest, yet he couldn't utter a sound.

Parry started to chuckle, satisfied at his lawyer's techniques. The shyster insisted

"Answer my question, Dr. Ressler, were they? They were tight, that tight?" He smiled dirtily.

"Yes! Starsky and Hutch were, are the best of friends." Sam shouted, irksome.

"Thank you, Dr. Ressler. Enlightening testimony."

Wells looked at the Jury, raised his eyebrows with a subtle smile of satisfaction and turned to see Judge Prescott, he bowed his head before sitting and said

"Thank you, Your Honor."

There was a deadly and sharp silence all around the Courtroom. Starsky, Hutch, Dobey and everybody else felt filthy and accused, somehow. Slowly the murmurs of the audience became increasingly louder until the voice of Judge Prescott and the sounding block of the gavel silenced everybody.

The magistrate signaled the two lawyers to his bench and they approached slowly and in a quiet voice, Prescott said to the two men. "Just to make a little reminder to both of you. This case is about to unravel the assassination of eight people, one attempted murder of a Police Officer, and the deployed psychological torture and physical damage inflicted on that very same Police Officer and his partner… so please, don't play dirty, Counselors." The wise old man warned them.

"Excuse me, Your Honor, but this is inconceivable and disgusting. What do you suggest? I think that you are prejudicing me and condemning my client beforehand" the filthy shyster said pretending to sound annoyed and flustered.

"According to a strict sense of Justice, Mr. Wells, I assure you that I won't prejudge your client. And that code is the code that I live by for 25 years now as a Judge of the Court without any tarnished behavior. You must be sure, that I will act according to the law, especially since I know that I still don't have enough knowledge of the facts that led us here; but you must also know that that same code that I live by prevents me from buying those tricky stagings that you are so fond of playing, Mr. Wells. I know you very well. That's why I just want to remind you; we are not discussing the intimacy of two detectives here; don't try to take any advantage of that. Anyway and if it happens to be the case, that we discover something inconvenient regarding their intimacy I have to tell you that I am not interested either and I won't issue any opinion about it. The US people, represented by the Jury's will, mustn't be cheated by parodies of shysters who want to smear the court, Wells. I want you to know because I'm a very loyal man, and I won't consent any more tricks like this, okay? You're dispensed".

Jonathan Wells returned to his bench irritated and raging.

_Strike Two, almost._ Moore thought and secretly smiled.

The Bailiff announced that the trial was continuing again.

"Your witness, Dr. Moore."

"Thank you, your Honor. You were saying, Dr. Ressler that Starsky and Hutchinson found out that Dobey and his partner were the Policemen who arrested Parry in the sixties. You also affirmed that the defendant couldn't overcome the rage state he was in. But then, what triggered his behavior again? Which was the link to the present time's murders?"

Sam Ressler was overwhelmed by the situation and the pressure, but he had to continue, he had to unravel Parry's demons finally. With all the force he could muster, he said with pain, "Maybe the assassination attempt that Starsky suffered was one of the things that restarted his need for revenge; I remember vividly how curious he was about it, never realized that he did know Dobey though, but I remember quite well how he watched TV when the news reached the media, he was obsessed... I don't know; sometimes I think that maybe that was the reason... or maybe, maybe I was." The shrink sighed and bowed his head.

"I beg your pardon?" Moore said, astonished. Neither he had known.

"I was." Sam filled his lungs with the so much needed air. "Unwittingly, I did the same that Captain Dobey did back in the sixties. I repeated the same pattern, 15 years later and it triggered his desire for revenge starting all over again."

At this point, even Harry Moore and everybody else at Court was disoriented.

"But what did you do, doctor?"

Ressler fixed his glassy eyes straight into Parry's eyes. "I mean, maybe, it was my fault."

Starsky and Hutch's eyes were all over the psychiatrist, too. _What was he saying?_ Until the moment in which Sam cleared his words and shared his theory, they didn't understand.

"What was your fault, Dr. Ressler?" Moore repeated.

"At first, I protected him. I protected Parry, and I heard him. Tried to be his friend and I didn't judge him. He felt sheltered by me and necessary. But then, from his sick point of view, I also abandoned him. I left him alone and at his mercy, the same pattern that happened with Dobey, and it became worst when I met them... when I met Starsky and Hutch."

"So you say that he felt like challenged one more time, and, therefore, began to kill again?"

"Yes, sort of. Madoc decided he should do the same, too. He started the uncontrolled killings again, ending with the most valuable of all men, the strongest, the more manly and attractive to him." His eyes still fixed on the evil man who was defiant.

"You mean he was searching for the epitome of all men, someone intensely manly, and someone who synthesizes all the male characteristics he lacked and yearned for, just to hurt you? And hurt him?"

"Yes. And someone who happens to be my friend and one of Dobey's protégée. I'm sure about it." Sam looked at the attorney.

"Detective Starsky?"

Sam made a long and heartfelt pause. "The very same."

The second longest and most unbearable silence of the afternoon happened, polluting the atmosphere. The air was thick and sick and unbreathable. The Jury was overwhelmed by Ressler's statement. Starsky felt stained and sordid without any reason, and Hutch and Dobey felt guilty without any reason either. All the participants' body's languages spoke volumes about how uncomfortable they all felt. Harry Moore gathered his strength; he had to continue; he needed the Jury to infer, without hesitation, what had happened. Although the stressful moment, that was his job.

"You mean he never picked up his victims randomly, and Detective Starsky was no exception; you say that each one of the men he has killed responded to a studied pattern?"

"Of course. He methodically and consciously studied them." Sam said firmly. He cast eyes to Starsky's disconsolate appearance. His friend was suffering, and the disappearance of his anguish depended on what he was about to say, so he continued, determined to get to the end of the matter and to finish this nightmare.

Moore also realized that Sam was ready, and so he asked him.

"Can you be more precise?"

"I said that each crime was giving the society a message about the qualities a man should have, lawyer, those qualities he liked to destroy."

"What qualities specifically? I mean, we know all of the victims were Caucasian, that all of them were named David. All of them were straight. That the youngest was 22, and the oldest was 45 and performed different activities. I mean, it seems pretty difficult to find a unique reason, a universal pattern, Doctor." Moore tried to make the connection.

"There was a pattern. It wasn't complicated but twisted, indeed. Many of the victims lived what the police called, average lifestyles. That's a pattern. Most of the men were astounding in their professions. The best. Great minds and strong men with untarnished lives that he wanted to destroy. That was another pattern. He gave clues. In the sixties, he chose each one of his victims, according to the initials of their surnames and the neighborhoods they lived in. Those initials formed the family name of Elmo Jackson, Dobey's beloved partner. And he tried to use the same pattern now with Detective Starsky's surname. The letters of Dave's name matches the places in which he had killed and the names of the victims he killed. And, of course, the most important thing of all, Starsky is more than a son to Dobey. He loves him." Sam stopped, he downed his eyes to the floor and said, "I love him, too. He is my friend. That was another pattern. This M.O signified that he chose everyone on purpose, to lead him to the final victim. The manliest of them. This means that this wasn't a delusion of an insane mind. He knew what he was doing because he had planned it." Sam squinted his eyes, having seen the impact everything he said had on Starsky and every one of his friends; he felt outraged.

"Well, quite difficult to unravel…" Moore added.

"Exactly! However, not impossible. That difficulty was what gave him more power. He needed to have everything under control because that was the way he had always felt, monitored, constrained and outnumbered. He had always felt observed and despised for what he was, or in fact because who he could not be. By his father, and even by himself all the time, since he had to control his real feelings and desires. He had to simulate. To have control was such an important issue for him that it had led him to take some terrifying and weird decisions. The tortures he performed were dehumanized; he obtained ecstasy from the extreme suffering of his victims, which related him to his pain. And since he was not able to consummate the sexual act he blamed them, and hurt them because of that. So, when he couldn't reach his desire, he chose not to control his impulses, he felt free and hurried to break the barriers that his victims had put to protect themselves. That made him feel more powerful and perfect than they were."

"You mean that he deliberately broke the victim's control, vanquished their resistance to getting what he wanted and have more control over them?"

"Yes. He hated men, all of them, and at the same time, he loved them. He hated himself. He couldn't stand the idea of being a virgin so he started his frenzy killings that cost eight men their lives because in torturing them he thought he would be redeemed from his sins. Then… oh God, excuse me." Suddenly Sam felt broken, he couldn't take it anymore.

"Are you okay, Dr. Ressler?"

"Yes, It's that I'm just so sorry, to have put my friends in this situation". Sam raised his eyes to Bruce Sagay, who was choked in tears sitting in the third row to his left. "He killed your son, Bruce. I'm sorry, and then you, Starsky. I never imagined he would think of me the way he did about Dobey and put you in that position, buddy."

Ressler couldn't help but talk to his friends who were both on the verge of breaking too. "I didn't realize that he could not tolerate my rejection or abandonment; I still can't believe that he would think that I did that to him". The psychiatrist shook his head in disbelief. "I've been pathetic and the worst of psychiatrists, a despicable doctor. Fortunately, since his feelings for my friend were very profound, he committed the same mistake he did with Neumen." He regained composure and attitude looking at Moore again. "He let himself get caught by the Police. I think even on purpose. And they were fast enough to prevent my friend's death and some others in the future. If that would have happened…" He shook his head and looked at the stage he was sat at until he directed his sight straight to Parry, "I hope Madoc, you will never get out of prison again." He ended.

"Thank you, Dr. Ressler."

Three days later after the first hearing, on Monday, December 12th, it was Starsky's turn.

The time he testified was of excruciating pain.

The traces of the chemo and cancer were starting to be notorious in his weakened body. His quiet voice, reciting each one of the tortures Parry had inflicted left him with his strength almost at the dead point. The emotional cost of remembering the nightmare put him at stake; and worst, it was causing his health to be endangered.

His statement had to be interrupted twice. The Court's medical staff had to assist him since he only, could not breathe.

Although he wasn't being besieged by damned Wells, who seemed to be even moved and defeated by the forcefulness of his declaration, Starsky could not withstand the persistent, pervasive and violent look from Parry's eyes. The man's eyes seemed to devour him, nauseatingly.

That was what made him feel even iller.

The demoniac man had pleaded guilty but insane; that was the defendant strategy, and now it was Parry's lawyer who was asking the questions.

Starsky was at Wells' mercy.

"Detective Starsky, do you think that a man in his right mind can commit the atrocities that you have told us?" The attorney tried to weigh him down.

"I'm a cop, not a doctor," Starsky said cunningly.

Jonathan Wells smiled wryly to the stout detective. He recalled the hatred that Gunther felt for him _"You're smart and defiant, Starsky, rightly the boss wanted to destroy you,"_ He thought.

"Your friend, Ressler here, has already told us the emotional torments that the defendant has gone through and through during his life very accurately. That circumstance doesn't make you wonder whether he is mad, or he isn't?"

"Not quite. It's murder. You can call him crazy; I still call him a murderer. What I have just told you, I know you didn't hear before. I didn't believe such man existed in the real world. Too much devil. In this case, I'm sure you will be very disgusted, lawyer. Come on! Read the files, the declarations, and the Police procedures at the crime scenes. In my case, it was bad, too bad. And I don't know if he was sick or if he weren't, but he surely knew damn well that I was. I'm still, and nonetheless, he doesn't care." Starsky waited to regain his strength. He filled his lungs and looked at the Jury and the Judge and then said. "Your Honor, I have cancer."

The murmurs in the room were instantly diluted

It was unthinkable that the barbarities that Starsky had told in Court during the past two hours, could have been inflicted on someone who already had cancer and was that sick. No one had ever said before to the Jury that cancer was Starsky's illness. It was way too cruel to think about it.

"Oh please. That's disgusting!" Wells said, "That's a low blow!"

Starsky laughed weakly. "Oh yeah! It is! It hit me badly the first time the doctors told me, you don't know how bad. It was a real low blow, yes! But I'm dying, and he knew, still knows, and he didn't care anything about it." Starsky made an extended pause and tried to fill his lungs. "He hurt me at the most elaborate extent; he hurt me a lot, your Honor, and he didn't care about it! The way I see it; the way he looks at me right now, he still doesn't care." He filled his lungs again with the so much needed air and took a sip of water. He started feeling dizzy, but he had to finish his statement. "He even had all the medicines that were needed to keep me alive and to make me endure his torments; that was what he said. I heard him. My partner heard him. He wanted me to be alive to suffer; he kept me alive only to torture me. Do you think that that could be the idea of someone who's insane? Who didn't understand what was he doing?" The silence in the Court was overwhelming.

At first, even Jonathan Wells stayed speechless at Starsky's testimony, but then he regained his role and his duty as the defense lawyer and kept asking. "I understand, and I'm sorry. I know what you are trying to say, but, you have already admitted, detective, consistently, that neither you nor your partner was restrained or tied all the time. What I gathered from this is that you voluntarily played the game my client proposed to you, didn't you? Why? You enjoyed it too?"

The legendary bond that both detectives shared had played evil tricks many times with them during their careers. Despite Preston's warning, several days before, Wells knew that he had to play dirty if he wanted to make the desired effect to the Jury.

Everybody always handed to the unfounded rumors that insinuated that Starsky and Hutch were more than teammates when they needed to make a dent in the duo's credibility. And he decided he would take advantage of that fact. He would profit from the gossip.

"What are you trying to insinuate?" Starsky said incensed, his respirations rowdy; he was angry and visibly upset and sweated all over while suddenly paled even more than he had ever been.

His vision started to blur.

Starsky was scared that he would collapse in front of everybody before he could convince the Jury about Parry's real motives and they could agree with Wells' insanity defense.

"Objection, your honor," Moore said instantly, taking into account the state Starsky was in and Preston bowed his head allowing him to talk.

"What is the lawyer trying to do? Convince the jury that Mad Parry is a nutcase? That only being insane could have committed the crimes he did? That he didn't know or understand what he was doing? Is he trying to do so? Okay, I agree with that strategy, I would have done the same if the roles were reversed and I would have been his defense attorney," the lawyer opened his arms, exasperated "But what is he really trying to tell us now?" The Attorney nodded to Starsky and the brunet barely reciprocated. Moore could sense how distraught the cop had become, he looked quite puzzled and that worried him; he realized that he needed to give the dark-haired man some more time to regain his strength, so he continued. "What's the next atrocity that we are going to be forced to hear? Instead of having to prove that this man did not commit the murders he committed; that he did not torture the witness the way he did, uh? Which is the line of thoughts that his defense attorney will develop now? That the goriest crimes ever heard in a Courtroom in the State of California were the result of a crazy mind and more than a bunch of willing victims? What are you trying to convince us of, Counselor?" Moore looked straight into Wells' eyes. "We are not questioning Detective Starsky here. We have a witness who happens to be a victim; the whole Police Department was in that basement and saw what they saw! When the Police arrived, they found Detective Starsky on the verge of dying, stabbed twice, and outrageously mistreated. His body devastated and bleeding to death and Detective Hutchinson paralyzed by a nervous breakdown, also shot, and bleeding too… Mad Parry acknowledged what he had done, and wanted to escape. From whom? From his ghosts? or his auditory hallucinations? For Christ's Sake!"

"Objection sustained! Ask accurately, counselor."

Jonathan Wells looked at Prescott, enraged. He thought he was going to explode, but he spoke again. "Detective Starsky, what I am trying to ask is if you didn't feel that this man was out of his mind?"

Starsky was visibly shocked but couldn't utter a sound.

"Detective Starsky? Are you okay?" Wells insisted.

Hutch started to get up; he realized that Starsky couldn't focus, and he worried. Judge Prescott also noticed how sick Starsky looked. Everybody realized, his respirations were audible through his microphone and the Court called for a two-hour recess.

The blond crossed the well to the bench and helped his partner stood; Starsky was unsteady and barely responsive.

"Starsky? Hey, how do you feel, buddy? Wanna go to the infirmary again?"

"Help me, Hutch. I think I'm gonna pass out."

It was the day's third suspension, but Starsky could not return to the witness stand.

It had been too much. He had left everything.

The Paramedics at Court transported him by ambulance to Memorial.

He passed out in the restroom; Hutch barely caught him before hitting the floor.

When the recess was over, the Court Clerk informed that the witness had suffered a medical indisposition and the District Attorney, had requested the Court to excuse Starsky from finishing his testimony. Even Jonathan Wells agreed to that.

Harry Moore needed to prove that Parry was not legally insane; he had to demonstrate that he knew that he was doing wrong things; that his actions lacked any humanity and remorse. That despite his awareness he did them anyway. In others words, he had to prove that Mad was a psychopath who lured his victims and murdered them in cold blood and because of that, he didn't deserve any special treatment since he was not an insane man.

When Moore presented his case, he told the Jury and the Judge that Parry was a skilled manipulator. A professional cheater who rushed against everything and everyone in pursuit of satisfying his most fundamental instincts. Hutch had felt it at the time that everything had happened. He knew that Parry knew perfectly well what to do and when to do it, to get what he wanted and kill his partner.

"To get what he wanted did he attack others? Yes! The deaths of Ian Fletcher and Daniel Blythe, and who knows whoever more, are enough evidence. They weren't the acts of a lunatic, but the result of meticulous planning and the key to carrying out his master plan. From Detective Starsky's statement, we can find out that he knew what he was doing. He was aware that he was evil. So he knew."

Parry's confession meanwhile was a catalog of sexual perversion and misfortunes. Harry Moore was aghast while the Court Clerk read an extract of it; nobody could believe the atrocities that they were listening. At such a display of hellish behavior, the assistant's voice cracked when he read verbatim, one by one of the last words of Parry's statement systematically. The Jury, the witnesses, the court's staff and everyone else in the place fell silent.

The Clerk read, "I can't even understand how I did the things I did. The only thing I know is why I did them, and it was not worth it. I could not achieve it, not even with him. I'm good for nothing; my father was right. Now, I don't wanna try anymore. I never want to get out of prison again. I can't. I want this bloodbath to end. I don't want freedom. Madoc Parry is the devil itself. What he did was wrong. I am all wrong and biased. When I was a kid, my father used to berate me because he realized that I was a bad boy, but I didn't believe that I kept on being that bad when I'd grow up. I don't want to grow up, anymore. How could I have been that devil? Or that sick? Yeah, I've been the evil. I am the devil, I am Madoc Parry, and no one deserved to die the way I killed them... because I just wanted to kill them... they excluded me from so many things. I hate everybody! I'm full of hate and I love it. I have no regrets, in fact, the only thing I yearn for is to have not been born or have been born dead, but I had so much fun... Killing a person is a strange experience, a human being means nothing: there are so many that they don't mean anything. I don't know if I'm a psychopath or not. I do not care. All I know is that I'm the author of many deaths, two of them may be a little more justified than others, though none can be in fact."

The jury deliberated for seven hours and decided that Parry deserved to spend the rest of his life in a prison cell standing for the Capital penalty.

He was found sane and guilty of eight assassinations and two attempts.

Three aggravating factors rendered Parry the harshest of the judgment.

The defendant had one previous murder conviction; the killings were particularly heinous, and the respondent waited and ambushed his victims.

Parry was sentenced to eight consecutive life terms or a total of 512 years in Folsom State Prison for first-degree murders and the attempted murder and torture of two police officers, without the possibility of parole.

After hearing the verdict, Mad Parry thanked the Jury and said, "Now I'm free. Free indeed. Thank you. I'm happy I didn't kill my David yet, but I wish he could be free soon, as soon as we can both be."

Parry's slaughter had come to its end.

Could that be?

**ACT 42 –CHRISTMAS-**

"Cary, here!"

"Oh, Hutch! How's he?" She asked her husband's partner desperately; Huggy had picked her up from the beach house and took her to Memorial.

"I don't know. I still know nothing."

They hugged.

She was in tears. "I told Dave that he shouldn't testify" she sighed, "I mean what for, Hutch? Damn! He's so stubborn!"

"If he had not been stubborn, wouldn't have been Starsky, Cary." Hutch smiled softly.

"Yeah, I guess so" she admitted regretfully, "you know him better than I do."

"Let's just say that I know him very well. Anyway, Sam's with him; you'll see that everything's gonna be okay," he caressed her in her arm.

"Yeah, I hope so."

They waited for two more hours in the waiting room.

At 7 PM Sam arrived with news about Starsky.

He said that his general condition was okay but that they had already taken him to surgery. He had a clot in his subclavian vein where his central line had been inserted, and they had to perform phlebotomy to take it away.

At the mention of the clot, Caroline shuddered.

"You ruled out any possibility of metastasizing to the liver or pancreas?" was her straight and immediate reaction.

"Well, I'm a Psychiatrist, Caroline," Sam replied trying to evade the answer.

"No kidding. And I ain't no Wells, don't treat me as if I were a lawyer, are you trying to dodge me? Come on! I know you're a psychiatrist, but John was also there with you, wasn't he?! He thought about pancreatic or liver metastasized, he sure did."

Sam filled his lungs and took his sight out of her face. His silence was eloquent enough, and Caroline understood. She nodded. She knew, and everybody understood.

Everybody, except Hutch.

"What are you talking about now? What does a clot in a vein mean? Which is the ratio of a clot in a vein with pancreas' cancer or - or liver metastasis?" Hutch asked desperately and began to stutter.

"Well, Hutch, superficial thrombophlebitis may be associated with abdominal cancers, such as pancreatic or liver cancer. Since he hasn't had any complications before with IV's and catheters and such things, and he's had many, we can't skip the possibility that now his cancer might have metastasized," Sam added.

Without looking at Hutch, Caroline said coldly, "Lung Cancer usually metastasizes to the liver or the brain, Hutch… that's the way the damn thing works!" She was angry and dejected. Her tone was grave as if she were talking about any given patient. At the moment, she was answering like a scientist. Otherwise, they all knew she would have broken; she had no way out but stay that way to try to cope with the sorrow.

But Hutch, couldn't.

He remained detached from everything and flabbergasted.

And that was the way he was going to be for some more time.

**********************S&H***********************

Memorial was a place he didn't like at all.

However, it had become a part of his life, unfortunately.

In the past years, he had spent many hours and even days there. If he narrowed those moments of pain with his good days free from the Hospital lately, he would be even.

John Murray, his oncologist, had just entered his room when Starsky was still in bed looking at the reflection of the sky in the mirror to his left.

He had asked his Doctor for a private meeting before facing the world.

"I'm sorry. The PET scan showed that, unfortunately, it has spread. Now it's in the liver. There are two active spots; you have two metastasis in the liver, David." The doctor bowed his head; he didn't have the guts to look at Starsky in his eyes; nothing seemed to work, cancer was as stubborn as his patient was.

The dark haired man was in bed, he had asked Murray to tell him the truth, before Caroline, and everybody else, enter the room. He had one decision to make. "So the chemo ain't working.", he asked calmly.

"Well, it's done a good job with your lungs…"

"It has spread." Starsky interrupted his doctor. "That's your idea of a good job? What you call good work?" Starsky waited for some time and then asked again. "John, put it straight to me, is it working or not?"

"No."

Starsky sighed. He got up gradually and went to the window. The world outside always seemed so inviting to him. "And what are we gonna do?" he asked serenely.

"Well, we're gonna stop the new cocktail with Carboplatin, and we'll decide what to do with the Cisplatin in a few days, after the next report. No matter where it has metastasized the cancer's still Lung Cancer, you know that, and Cisplatin seems to have done a good job with one of the tumors in your lung. But we're gonna stop the Carboplatin. The treatment's almost finished, and we think that there's no need to expose your body to its side effects. Especially since this drug messes with liver enzymes and electrolyte levels that could develop into nephrotoxicity or cardiovascular events and abnormal blood counts that you don't need right now. The clot's just a warning. When we receive the final Scan and Pet, we'll see, anyway."

"And when that would be?"

"After New Year. We're gonna send the tests to Johns Hopkins Hospital in Baltimore."

Starsky shrugged, "And until then?"

"Well, David, we're gonna deal with whichever treatment you think you're up to."

The brunet man smiled disconsolately, "John. You're not being clear. What are you gonna stop and what's doing a good job? Because I've already made a decision about all this. I only wanna know, which one's yours. And I wanna know it now."

Starsky had already decided that he was going to stop the treatment if something went wrong.

And it did.

"Well, we'll know for certain what to do in the next fortnight or so when we get the next results. We're gonna attempt to find something else. We've tried everything so far but," Murray shook his head, and he filled his lungs with the little air available in the room. He felt defeated. Starsky stayed silent and looked through the window. "The truth is that for now, we run out of ideas, David." the doctor concluded.

Starsky turned around and nodded to the physician who was behind him. Murray opened his arms, raised his palms to the sky. He had no more answers. Starsky stayed silent still. An uncomfortable silence the doctor couldn't stand. The brunet fixed his darkest stare into his doctor asking for answers.

"Okay! I won't lie to you. It's okay David. If you want, you can always choose whether to keep trying or start the palliative cares." Murray finished. The doctor bowed his head again because he couldn't look him in the eyes, he looked at the floor defeated. Starsky shook his head; he felt like he had to plan the layout of a police operation, a very dangerous one.

Only this time he was alone.

Hutch wouldn't back him up.

"How much time?" Suddenly, he challenged Murray, talked straight to his face. "If I stop it, how long might I live?" he asked again but yet the doctor, couldn't look. He bowed his head searching for his doctor's eyes, "John? Please?" he insisted.

"Well, if the next report confirms the same diagnosis that the last one did, according to statistics if you stop chemo… maybe three to four months tops." Murray made a long pause and raised his head and his eyes to his patient while sighing.

Starsky made a face. He was thinking.

"Cary knows?"

"Not yet, we - I didn't talk to her. At this point in your illness, I think that I should speak to you first."

"Thanks, John. Hutch?"

"Neither to him, no. I didn't tell him."

The brunet smiled relieved. "Like I said, I've already made up my mind a long time ago, and this is about time. I quit. The next steps, I'll discuss them with Hutch and Cary after Christmas, but for now, I quit... I know that he wants me to fight this, and she wants me to try to meet the baby too. And I want both things myself," He smiled dejectedly and shrugged, "but I can't take it anymore, John. So this is the first decision I'm making. The second one…" he changed the tone and the mood -he had that ability-, rasped his throat and said, "Let's celebrate Christmas!" he winked. "I'm sure there won't be another Christmas like this one in my life, so… when am I going home?"

Murray shook his head, astonished.

************************S&H***********************

They were told yesterday that there wouldn't be any more chemotherapy for Starsky.

Caroline had intuited everything. She knew, so, the decision didn't surprise her.

For Hutch, however, it was far more different.

His last tiny piece of hope disappeared with Starsky's decision. He needed a little more time to come to terms with what was happening and now that time was gone, and he was dismal and empty. He took it hard, harder than Caroline. He was clinging to that last shred of hope. He was sure that he was going to help Starsky overcome the illness, and his decision shocked him.

On the other hand - though he felt that Starsky was upset and scared, he perceived that the brunet was surrounded by a feeling of comfort and a sense of relief that he could not tolerate. For Hutch, it seemed as if he had even accepted everything.

His partner was almost back to his old self, and that was the same thing that enraged the blond-haired man even more.

_"What's so funny, Starsky?"_ He thought but didn't dare to ask his buddy.

The doctors decided that Starsky would stay at Memorial during the weekend until Monday 19 and then that he would go home. The brunet wanted to start preparations for Christmas, so he was anxious. It's gonna be five days until Christmas' Eve, and he wanted to enjoy the spirit as if nothing was going on so far.

***********************S&H**********************

"Dobey sent you here to me?" Hutch was back in Venice Place, after five days of having been hospitalized with Starsky.

"Yes. What's wrong with that? What the hell are real friends for?" the doctor answered.

Dobey thought that no one but Sam could help his detective to get past the last news since the blond man was sure that Starsky will recover and now it seemed that it wouldn't be possible.

"Oh, My God Sam! I can't stay around him. I'm angry. He is…! Oh Man! Christmas time! How can he think about Christmas? I don't know how I'm gonna survive Christmas in the future if he's not gonna be here. Damned! I have to be strong and even stronger next Christmas".

"I wish that I could help you understand!" Sam said with empathy.

"What's to understand? I don't wanna understand!" Hutch was flustered. "There's nothing to understand. I don't know, Sam. He's so sure that there's no chance, and that's why he stopped the chemotherapy. How can he be so sure? He told me that he just wants to be comfortable and at peace, with his lady and the baby at the beach house. And what about me? I can't find any peace in what's happening… I don't wanna be with him; I don't wanna say goodbye; I don't wanna know what's going on. I miss him already, and I wanna disappear! The only person I can talk to is you. Huggy's devastated, and Dobey's sad; he sent you here to me because we had an argument a few hours ago, and he seemed not to understand me either, damnit! I mean… I don't give a shit about Parry's verdict! I don't wanna be distracted by anything. I only care about Starsky; I have other problems now. You listen? What to say anyway? Oh, Sam, I feel so alone. What am I gonna do?"

Sam stayed speechless at the forcefulness of Hutch's words.

"You only need Starsky, don't you?"

"Only him! Yes." He said enraged.

The blond just needed to vent, so that was what Sam was allowing him to do.

"I know that you're sad, Hutch, but trust me! you'll feel better, anytime."

"I ain't sad, Sam; I'm angry!" Their eyes met in a puff of air… "I knew that this would happen, and I'm pissed off that he has given up this soon because I think that if he tries… Damnit!" He shook his head, "I'm sure he's just not trying. I don't know why he isn't but... C'mon Starsky! You always could, what's the deal now, huh? I'm sure we could've worked this out together just like we've always done. I can't accept it!"

It was late Monday night, and Starsky had just been discharged from Memorial. Hutch was devastated by the recent news and Sam had gone to his house to give him some solace and a piece of comfort. The police officer's shouts were raging at first, but then he started feeling bereaved and depressed. Hutch couldn't help the utter dismay he was feeling, the absolute sense of loss he was experiencing through and through "But you were right, Sam. I can't do it alone, not without him! We've always worked together! It's obvious that he doesn't wanna try and fight this with me. Yes, you're right; this shall pass. I'm wasting my time, and it has no sense either… such a waste! It's a given he doesn't care about me; he doesn't think about me, anymore, so why don't we better go to a bar and grab a few bourbons and forget about everything?" Hutch suggested to Sam out of the blue.

"Hutch stop! You have to cope with your anger and sadness, not get drunk! Blondie, come on! If it's not for you, just do it for him!" Hutch lost his sight and cracked. "When he sees you or Cary, Dobey, and Huggy upset or angry, I find it bothers him, and that's not good for him. You shout and cry here, now with me, and tomorrow it'll be another day."

Hutch started cursing. "I don't wanna think of tomorrows. There won't be a tomorrow!"

"You can't help it, Hutch. It'll be. You can't stop the time. Time moves on its own. It comes, and it always leaves. Buddy, you have to stay with him and enjoy the time that there's still available because time's fast. You'll regret it when you won't have him."

"I'm sorry! Oh, I'm so sorry, I know, but" he broke bitterly. "Oh! I'm sad Sam, so sad and angry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I know I'm selfish and stupid but... I wanted him so much to fight this. We've been through so much; it doesn't seem fair, you know, after everything that we've been through, that this is gonna happen to him. I wanna stop this."

"I know, I know." Sam sighed, sadly.

"It's hard to accept that it has advanced," Hutch said inconsolably.

"Yeah, it's hard. Very hard, pal."

"I love, Starsky! He's my best friend. I love him more than anything else! He means the world to me, and I can't accept losing him."

"I know, I understand you, Hutch."

"Do you understand me?" The flaxen-haired man said with hope.

"Yes, I do."

Hutch nodded, dispiritedly and Sam stretched his arm to giving him some comfort, "C'mere, you must know that this stage of rage and denial that you're in is giving you time to adjust to his diagnosis, but you must also know, and I have the moral obligation to tell you, that... you don't have much more time ahead." Sam waited for some time for his words to sink. "Hey, look at me, pal. You know that, don't you? That there's not much more time left?" For the first time, Hutch raised his eyes to him in full comprehension. Sam nodded. "don't waste it in vain, in bitterness and disgruntlement, okay?"

"Why? Why are you telling me this, Sam? You scare me; you mean he's gonna die, soon? Oh, I know, I know, and how It hurts!"

"Yeah, it hurts. And I don't know when, but he's gonna die, buddy." Hutch stayed silent, and Sam kept on talking. "Listen, for now, the chemo's over, and we must focus on celebrating his life and look back to all we've done together. We have to stop pressuring him to fight this; we did it steadfastly and fiercely since the beginning. You and I, and everybody else, from the outset, even Cary, with the baby, are an added pressure. We have to stop, Hutch. Stop expecting and end the suffering. I think we have to support him. We don't have to question the decision he has made, whatever it was, even if it means him leaving us sooner. We all like to think that he would fight his cancer, but the effects of the chemotherapy on Starsky were unbearable, and I don't wanna witness his suffering anymore. You just admitted it; that he doesn't deserve to suffer anymore, that it's not fair."

"No, it's not fair."

"So, what for, buddy?"

"What for?" Hutch smiled and repeated reflectively, "What for...?" He closed his eyes and bit his lower lip holding on the sobs before saying. "Not even all my life will be enough to explain all I'm gonna lose the day he isn't here…" he got lost in a reverie. Sam could see his transformation, as the man made so many lovely faces, remembering the old times, those moments he had shared with Starsky in the past. "I could try many definitions, Sam, but to let me feel his loving presence's the first that comes to my mind. I wish I could beg God that he doesn't take him away from me just - just to feel his warm presence, that's all. That's what I'm gonna lose. My blood and my heart. And that's more than enough". He smiled while a lone tear streamed down his face. "That's the reason he should stay here. For me? His baby? Whatever, but that is for."

"I'm sorry, buddy."

Sam has no more words; that was all that he could say.

***********************S&H**********************

"Oh, Come on, no! Not again, Starsk!" Hutch was flustered, even with Starsky he had his limits.

"Yeah! I wanna listen to it again, please?"

One Five years old child would have shown more maturity than the brunet did at the moment, indeed, but then, it was Christmas' time, so it was to be expected.

"But it's the third time in a row you put Perry Como's song 'I'll Be Home for Christmas,' buddy!"

"Well, what's Christmas' Time for, if not to listen to those tunes? After all these years pal, I still can't believe your tendency to deny the spirit!" Now, it was the brunet who was annoyed, but he continued. "That's the tune my pop used to play to announce to my mom that he was gonna be home for Christmas, that he wouldn't have to work the night shift!" Starsky made a peevish gesture with his hand in his typical Stan Laurel fashion and arranged his sweater's lapel.

His red sweater. He had his red sweater. _"That sweater, oh my God, a hell of a lot of years,"_ Hutch thought.

"Mom loved that album!" the brunet continued, "They listened to it all day long at Christmas time. I just remembered that, okay? Okay, enough!"

He went to where the turntable was and grumbled in a tiny voice. "Holly grouchiness! You and your Nordic bitterness, Goldilocks! That boredom, man, for Christ's sake! What's Christmas' Spirit for you? To find a little almond in one big rice pudding, oh come on! That's all the fun you've got? Then you say that the Jews are stingy! You believe it? I …"

"What are you mumbling?"

Starsky didn't realize that Hutch was just behind him.

"Uh? What?"

"I heard you, buddy! What are you mumbling?" Hutch squinted.

"Nothing, It's nothing!" Starsky used that exasperating pitched tone he used when he felt threatened by his buddy, "I ain't saying anything! I'm just looking through the LP's to put another song that doesn't disappoint you. And please, don't nag me!"

When Hutch turned around, Starsky mocked him and gestured to him sarcastically.

"I'm gonna change the song, lemme see, mh… yes, this one! This one's gonna be perfect!" he said.

And the chords of 'Rockin' around the Christmas tree' started to sound while he closed his eyes and smiled remembering the tune in his mind.

They kept putting the decorations on the tree.

One by one, they put the tinsels and the little balls. Starsky was as amused as he had always been during the past 15 years.

And as he always did, he was a motor mouth...

"Hey Hutch, you know that this song was written by Johnny Marks who despite the fact that being Jewish specialized in writing Christmas songs?"

"Really?" the blond answered with his usual disinterest.

_"Some things never change!"_ Starsky thought,_ "even if I'm dying…"_ he laughed secretly and was even thankful for it. "Some Jews have best vibes than some Christians regarding the holidays, haven't they?" he said ironically, almost taunting Hutch.

The blond snorted, "You cannot complain, buddy. The pitcher goes to the well once too often and then it's broken at last! I'm here, I AM HERE, see?" he opened his arms, "In flesh and bones, I'm not a hologram. I'm putting up the tree with you, you see?" He showed him the brazen red ball, "I and my whole wasp demeanor are here with you making this nonsense fashion of which you are so fond of, what else?"

"Well, what about you enjoy it a little. Maybe? For a change?" Starsky raised his thick eyebrows.

Hutch gave up and looked at him with tenderness and nostalgia. _"You have not gone yet, and I miss you already, buddy!"_ He thought and then laughed, tempted. He stretched his arm to touch him on the shoulder with infinite longing. "I'm enjoying it, buddy, sure."

Starsky winked and nodded and put a tender smile on his boyish face. "I know."

He embedded his glossy look into Hutch's, reliving the silent communication that was so typical and saying at the time how much they loved each other.

They smiled again and repeated the secret and silent code _"Don't think this is our last time, pal. Relax! Continue pretending that nothing happens. Live like this! This is meant to be endless; us, me and thee, Hutch. Remember this, remember me"_. The blond winked at his partner's silent words too, and the brunet began talking again.

"As I was saying, dontcha think that this is the real form of Christmas' Spirit, pal? It's music? And The Weavers, and Bing Crosby, and White Christmas, and Judy Garland's songs and the fifties. Remember the fifties, Hutch?" Starsky sighed excited at the memories and kept talking. He had that shiny twinkle in his beautiful blue eyes… "What else? Besides, I need to be inspired to put up the tree. This is a unique time in the year, buddy, and there won't be another Christmas like this one, Hutch." he said trying to reason.

The words were said without intent.

Starsky didn't mean to say what he had said, not on purpose, at least. His Christmas' spirit, intact as always, was playing tricks.

There won't be another Christmas like this one ever… "_Never indeed, buddy._" Hutch thought.

The taller man had to get out to the terrace because he couldn't keep the tears at bay, but Starsky didn't notice since he was absorbed in his enterprise. He didn't realize how sullen his friend had become; he was like a little boy when it came to the season...

"Huuuutch!" After a few minutes, Starsky's cries took the flaxen-haired man out of his reverie while the icy sea wind carried his tears far away from his face that was hauntingly dripping with icicles. "Come on! What are you doing? It's freezing out there; you wanna catch one damned pneumonia? Help me put the mistletoe over the threshold, will you? Gimme a hand here Hutch! Huuuutch!"

"Buddy, I'm coming, but first I've gotta go to the bathroom." And he went to the toilet and washed his face and rinsed his tears and blew his nose and left and entered the cozy living room as if nothing had happened. Again at Starsky's side to help him with the mistletoe. "What are you doing? Take care of yourself, Starsk! Get down that ladder!"

The ladder was just leaning against the wall, and Hutch feared he might slip and fall.

"Oh, it's okay," Starsky said stubbornly.

"Lemme do it; come on, get down!" Hutch started motioning Starsky to get down. "Get down, get down!"

"What? You want me down on the floor and under the threshold? Wanna kiss me under the plant? I'm sorry to inform you that you ain't my type, and I'm already married pal." He said while starting going down.

"You 'Season freak,' you should know that there's a proper etiquette for kissing under the mistletoe, and I'm seeing you ain't no woman or girl. Besides your cheek is very hirsute." The flaxen-haired man said almost recovered.

"So's my chest and everybody loves it!"

They both smiled and kept adorning all. They put the tree together following every tradition they had like they did every year.

Every year, in fact, since 1979.

It took that long to Starsky to get his partner into the 'euphoric sentimentalism' of the season, but Hutch finally, had surrendered to his friend's antics. So, since Gunther, he had helped Starsky every year with the tree and the preparations, and the food and the shopping and everything else which meant Christmas to his childlike buddy. In fact, for Hutch, that one, 1979's Christmas, was the very first one he felt that he had something to be grateful for and celebrate.

Starsky was alive and breathing, fairly well after all he had endured because of the assassination attempt. From the five days in a coma to the three months in Memorial and the seven months of an excruciating PT that meant torture, in the aftermath of everything... It looked like in December '79; he was on the mend. Good indeed, that even at the time, they believed he could be a cop again, so he indulged himself in the celebration. From that day on, Hutch enjoyed their friendship and his friend for the very first time and without any complaints on Christmas.

That Christmas time had been the starting point.

And it had been that way since then.

But that had been eons away. Today, it was just a very different game all around.

"I'll give you a present. You bought me a present, Hutch?" Starsky was cuddled on the couch, looking at Hutch, who was putting the last ornament on the Tree. It was almost finished. Starsky had started to get tired.

He tired easily lately.

"Yes, Starsk. I did." Hutch was almost broken. He had had a tough time thinking about Starsky's present this year. But he had found the proper one. And though he knew that the moment he was going to give it to him was going to be very emotional, he was determined to do it. "Tomorrow, you'll see," he ended saying.

"Really? Oh! I can't wait. I just can't wait" the Brunet said full of excitement.

It was almost ready.

They had used the decorations. The bright bulbs, and the colorful lights that played along with the Christmas carols, a new device Starsky had bought at Kip's Toyland in Farmers, to ornate the tree and the House.

"See Hutch? This is just great; the lights blink to the beat of the songs. It's fantastic; it's like fireworks!"

"Yes, it's wonderful, Starsk."

They entwined their eyes. It was time to put the star on top. Starsky usually put it, but he was already too tired to stay upright, so he asked his friend to do it on his behalf.

"Would you mind putting my father's star on top?"

The question knocked Hutch in his heart, he couldn't help but broke when his buddy asked him to do it. Starsky decided he couldn't put a front anymore, he didn't explain Hutch or tried to pretend anything else, he just couldn't. He needed his friend's help to finish the tree, he couldn't do it alone, but the star was more than Hutch could take.

It was a symbol.

It was Starsky's old Star; golden star, the one his father used to put on the upper part of his Christmas tree when he was a kid. The brunet had asked his mother, a few years ago, to bring it back to him from New York, and she had granted, and he kept the significant ornament like a treasure. Every year he repeated the same tradition and used the same -somewhat faded by the time, old star.

Now he didn't have the strength to do it.

Now it was Hutch's turn to celebrate his friend the way he wanted to, although it was ripping the blond's heart in two.

"Everything's in its place, Hutch. Thanks! You can go now."

"Yes, I can go, Starsk. But you can't, buddy." the blonde-haired man meant more than words could say.

And Hutch was already gone.

******************S&H*******************

"You know, this has a lot of meaning to me," Starsky said breathlessly. Both, Cary and he were watching the Star that Hutch had put atop the tree. He had already told her that he hadn't had the strength to do it. Still didn't.

Outside, It was pretty cold and windy.

The window panes were fogged, and they could see the shore, barely, from the couch in which they were sitting. It was a beautiful and cozy picture to see although nothing; nothing could equal the Christmas images that were harbored in their memories. Those December's days, back east, when they were children, and Christmas meant snow and yule log and pine trees and everything else.

They were sat in the living room, beside the chimney looking at the Christmas tree and drinking hot coffee when Starsky started talking again.

"My Pop was the one who put the golden five-pointed star at the top when I was a kid. I remember that I thought it was the biggest star in town." He smiled shyly at his own innocence and continued saying, "when I was ten years old one night…" He pouted, and his voice cracked by the memory, "he came home late in the early morning, after a shift. He found me sleeping on the couch cuddled up with mom, waiting for him to put it on top." He waited for some time, gathered his strength to continue, "He did. I remember that he carried me to my room, after that; he tucked me in bed and gave me a Baby Ruth candy bar; put it on my nightstand." He closed his eyes and smiled dreamily filling in his ill lungs. "He was like a vision in my blurred mind, but I remember that he said that I should eat it in the morning to get stronger. He advised me that if I did, I was gonna be a tough guy, just like he was and healthy too. That I might always enjoy everything that life would throw at me because I was always gonna have a real sweet spirit." He laughed thrilled at the memory, rubbed his tears and continued, "He also told me that I might always be able to enjoy Christmas, as well of course, in any circumstances. I only had to eat that bar..." He shrugged, his eyes flooded with tears again, and so were Cary's, who was listening to the story with all her senses. She gave him a tender smile, and he continued. "He said that whether he was, or wasn't there for me, I would be equally happy. He told me I wouldn't need him around to enjoy anything in my life because I was going to be strong enough to face anything." He shrugged, and explained, "Pop knew that he had to work the night shift on Christmas, so he was preparing me, not to expect him. I didn't realize at the time." He grimaced and continued "I slept and dreamt, thinking that the candy bar could gimme the energy to run around the bases 27 times, because of the dextrose found in one of 'em. Remember the advertisement?", He raised his eyebrows, questioning. Caroline didn't remember, so she shook his head no. He smiled. "Anyway, I didn't think about anything else at the time, but baseball. Only playing the game was what mattered to me when I was a kid. If only I had known..." He opened his eyes and sighed. He suddenly became sad. "The next day, on Christmas Eve, they killed him. That was the last time that Pop hugged me."

He sobbed and blinked at the sound of the music also; his eyes were like mirrors, full of tears at the memory, but just like always, a smile was also drawn on his face.

She nodded. "Oh, honey! I didn't know that your dad had been killed on Christmas' Eve."

"Nobody knows. Way too sad to share. You know, this mission thing I have, I must keep the sweet spirits up! The way he asked me to. I became a tough guy and a candy bar junkie just like him, also a Season Freak but I guess that it's about time to spread the word, isn't it?." He smiled and looked at Caroline, "Will you?" he got serious, "Will you spread the word and remember me at this time, next year?"

Cary nodded, "Next year, and the next, and the next, and the next…"

He smiled flattered.

She was smitten and broken by his words, and she couldn't say anything.

He made a pause like thinking, and then he said.

"When I'm gone, I want you to choose among someone's special for you who can put this same star on top of the tree for my kid. Will you?" She frowned, puzzled. "I would like to tell you, Cary, that as he did today, I want Hutch to be that particular person, but neither I want to pressure or force you to do it... I mean, perhaps, next Christmas, my child's gonna be lucky enough to have a dad of his own who put the star on my behalf," he winked at her.

"There won't be another father for our baby. You're my baby's dad, and you'll always be," she said without a doubt.

They hugged and cried silently.

She knew that she wouldn't ever forget the way she felt that night, the night before Christmas Eve.

Their bodies were intertwined in a warm embrace, and she peeked at their reflection in the windowpane. Their silhouettes were surrounded by lots of colored lights blinking to the rhythm of the carols. They were that way for a long time, feeling themselves and their heartbeats, which were like the drums of the Nutcracker, fused into one body, embodied.

It was poignant.

They had placed lots of stuffed animals and gifts for their baby underneath the tree. They had hung stockings full of treats, too. Starsky told her all his Christmas stories; there were lots of them. He was funny, tender and sweet.

She realized that she wouldn't ever forget the way she was feeling that magical night.

"You know, when I was a kid I liked to attend the candlelight service on Christmas Eve, I loved seeing people taking the communion wafer. I was so curious about it". He smiled mischievously. "We used to live near a Church, the Holy Name of Jesus, across Prospect Park, and I always went there and stayed with the nuns. One of 'em, Sister Anne; she gave me the communion wafer once, just to taste it." He made a shushing gesture with his finger upon his mouth and opened the big bottomless blue eyes of his, like a six-year-old boy. "Sweet Sister Anne, made me swear I wouldn't tell anybody she gave it to me, so it was my little secret until now. I know how to keep a secret, don't I?" He winked mischievously and proudly, "Thirty-something years of silence…"

She opened her eyes too and smiled. He looked ethereal. She was in awed admiration of his extraordinary presence and felt completely infatuated.

He smiled at the memory and shrugged. "I dunno, there's something unique and moving for me about the dim lighting, the glow of the candles and the old Christmas Carols. I even went caroling all around my neighborhood. I always treasured Christmas time!"

"You did?" She was listening intently to him, admiring how handsome and sweet he was while his head leaned on his left hand.

"Yep. I loved it! But tell me about you? What did you do at Christmas in Connecticut when you were a kid?"

She sat, straight. "Well, just the same things you were telling me. The usual. Oh! And we also put the tree!"

They both laughed surprised

"You really? So your mom was just like mine?" Starsky said excitedly.

"Yes! At first, my aunts refused to build the Christmas tree. They were sure that we shouldn't be surrounded by the religious spirit of Christianity!" She said ceremoniously, and they both smiled. "That being Jewish and all... but, you know mom." She shook her head, "She gave in to my request, and I had the biggest Christmas tree I've ever dared to imagine at the age of 5. All my Jewish friends came home to appreciate it" she remembered fondly. "She's always been a challenging woman."

"Now I realize who you resemble" he smiled, "Yeah…, well, maybe this is the reason you and I are a perfect match. I mean Rachel and Debbie share more than one attitude."

They nodded amusingly.

"And what about the bakery? Did Rachel bake anything? My mother used to bake ginger cookies, Lebkuchen!"

"Oh yeah, I love Lebkuchen, but, mom's specialty besides the Stolen were the homemade pecan pies. Mh!" He closed his eyes and took the deepest breath his ill lungs let him. "I love the smell of Christmas. Remember the orange blossom water? You know it? My bubeleh used to dip the chocolate coated marshmallows in orange blossom water before, and then she roasted them. My whole childhood smelled like that! Nutmeg, cinnamon, and ginger… Oh! Ginger…" he suddenly became sad, "Now, unfortunately, neither ginger feels right for me; it reminds me of something so disgusting" he shook his head.

"Come on, cheer you up!" Caroline took his head in her hands, made him look at her and spoke with her eyes "Come on honey, forget it! You forget?"

"Okay," he said determined not to ruin this moment.

She nodded. "You know what? You know that my Uncle Ben used to get dressed up as Santa for the kids?" She kept talking about the season with a smile trying to make him forget.

"Really? Oh no! I didn't have any relative that went that far! But I've been with him, with the original Santa!" he said cunningly.

"You did?" she smiled at him and shook her head "You smug." she finally said.

"Oh, yeah I did! And I still treasure my picture with him. A photographer took a picture of mom and me with him in 1949 at Gimbels. You know, after "Miracle on 34th St," that was the real place where the authentic Santa lived in Da City" he smiled and winked at that Brooklynism so typical.

"Oh, my little Brooklynites' boss!" she laughed and ruffled his head. "I thought Coney Island and the Cyclone Roller Coaster in the Steeplechase were the only beautiful things the Borough had to offer to this world. Turned out that there was one more thing than that!" she said mischievously.

"Oh yeah? And what's that? Pastrami on rye with mustard?" he asked, curiously.

She looked at him. Her eyes were drunk in love, intoxicated in passion. She kissed him ardently and looked him in his eyes and said, "Turned out that the most good-looking man in the whole world has been well brought up there. Mh, you are scrumptious, yummy boy! I love you, Dave!"

"I love you too," and he closed his eyes. His face's expression changed to a sadder one; he stayed that way for a long time, and he sighed.

"What?" Caroline asked, worried.

He took a long time before answering, only listening to his feeble breathing sounds; he opened his eyes. "I'm tired. Please, would you like to dim the lights, and tell me a beautiful story by the glow of the candles?"

"Oh honey, of course, I'll do; you're so sweet and lovely! You seem like a little boy, come here!" She cuddled him and rocked him back and forth while she told him her stories about the way she celebrated Christmas. She sang the Yankee Doodle Dandy Christmas for him, and they both laughed. They remembered the toys they expected to get when they were kids, and the names of Betsy Wetsy and Chatty Cathy and the enameled cars and the blackbird crystal set floated in the air. They cuddled up together for half an hour, just remembering until he fell asleep.

"I'll remember this Christmas for a long time to come, Motek. I wish I could make you happy," she said out loud.

And she kissed him again until she fell asleep too.

The day after, on Christmas' Eve, they woke up early and began ending all the preparations.

Cary surprised Starsky and baked a homemade pecan pie for him, just like his mom's. Rachel had provided her the recipe.

They enjoyed the rest of the festivity as usual.

After attending the religious service, the Dobeys came to celebrate. Hutch, Sam, and Huggy were already there too. There were only two moments of particular sadness. Indeed very moving. The first one was when Rachel Starsky called from New York, as she did every year. Starsky didn't want his mother to come, to not raise any suspicion about his real state, so she didn't. Anyway, after he hung up the phone and since he was on the verge of breaking, he went to his room. He only needed some time alone to recover. When Cary noticed that he had disappeared, she sent Hutch to go and get to him. The flaxen-haired man went to his room, to see what happened, and he found his partner crying. Hutch sat next to him in bed, comforted him and hugged him.

Starsky was pretty sad at the moment; he couldn't help but sobbing like a child.

He was also scared, so he told Hutch "Sorry, but talking to my mom on the phone is what I hope for every Christmas Eve, actually. When I was a kid, Mom always read to me the night before Christmas. Since we began to live separately, she called me every Christmas Eve to do it, as she did when I was a small child. She always tells me her new Year's resolutions and funny and silly stories, gossips of our family, she also tells me how much she misses me every year. Every year, each year, pal." he shook his head. "Suddenly, I started thinking about how much she will want to tell me her stories next year. How much she'll miss me when I've died." He closed his eyes. "How sad it'll be for her when the clock strikes 12, and I won't be there. I feel very sorry for mom; for failing to avoid her such pain, that feeling of sadness ... I'll make a tape for her so she can listen to me next year, what do you think, Hutch?"

"I don't think, buddy. And you shouldn't think about such things at this moment either."

Starsky looked at him, at the same time Cary entered the room. The brunet raised his eyes to her, and she said, "Hutch's right, Motek, as he usually is. Should you think?" and she took his hand and pressed her belly.

He shook his head in silence, like a five-year-old kid.

"That's much better," she said, and the three of them came back to the living room.

He fought to get back to his former spirit after his mother's call, and he did.

It took him almost one hour, but he did.

Nevertheless, the most poignant moment of all was yet to come.

It was when they opened the presents.

Starsky had prepared a photo album for Hutch with each one and every photo he had taken during their years as partners. From their very first day together at the Academy until their last days as detectives.

Everybody knew that Starsky was an avid photographer, but nobody could understand how he had managed to take those pictures during all these years so unnoticeably.

He had captured thousands of gestures and moments of their years together. Now those moments were scattered in the pages, gently glued with utmost delicacy and decorated with arrows that indicated which the story behind each photo was.

Moments destined to stay there forever, just like their friendship was meant to be.

Infinite and uncountable moments of joy were carved in the album and their memories, and Starsky had even written those stories with his own words.

They were all overwhelmed by the present; Hutch was on the verge of breaking.

They gathered in the living room and spent a long time rummaging around the album's pages, and remembering.

But then, Hutch's present to Starsky would exceed any assumption Starsky, and everybody else could have made in advance.

Nobody expected that Hutch's gift for his buddy would be what it was.

"This is for you, buddy." He stretched his arm to his friend and gave him a little box wrapped in a bright red gift paper with a white organza ribbon. "I know you did it for me in the past. Now it's time I do this for you, to your future. I love you, buddy." The blond-haired man said.

Starsky frowned. "What's this? I'm already married, Hutch. Now you ask?" Starsky said jokingly.

They all laughed.

"You open it, and you'll see," the blond said mysteriously.

When Starsky opened the box and saw what was inside, he looked up at Hutch.

The blond nodded and cracked a happy smile.

"To my future?" He asked with wet eyes.

"Yes, you're the only one who can take care of her, and she'll take you wherever you wanna go, as she always did."

They embraced and wept sincerely for a long while.

The Dobeys and Huggy and Sam and Caroline were all mute witnesses of such a beautiful expression of brotherly love.

After Gunther, Hutch had suggested to Starsky many times to sell the Torino.

Though the car had protected him from the assault, it was equally true that the powerful engine brought to the blond many painful memories.

Starsky's riddled body beside her, bleeding and dying, haunted him like a ghost, and the horrific image appeared every time he approached the vehicle like a flashback.

When Starsky regained consciousness, and after two months the car had been available to the police to the technical expertise of the case, the brunet agreed that it was time to get rid of it. And leave it behind.

At least for Hutch's sake.

He didn't feel happy neither understood the idea.

He did it just for his friend's welfare; so he gave Merle the car - a piece of him that Gunther also took away from him, to repair it and sell it.

When he was able to drive again, one year after the attack, he bought his blue Camaro. He never heard from his beloved Torino again until the day Merle gave him a check for the value of the car.

It had been sold.

And he didn't want to know to whom or where it was. Only Merle knew.

The mechanic had kept the address, just in case.

And the moment had come.

A few days before Parry's trial started, Hutch had gone to see Merle to rescue from the past the Torino, which at the time was more like a time machine than a car.

However, three years had gone, and it had not been easy for Hutch to locate it.

The car had been sold to the son of a farmer who lived near San Diego, and Hutch had to spend a lot of time trying to contact the young man. When he found him and asked him to sell it, at first the young man offered resistance. However, when he told the farmer's son the whole story, the reason he needed the car back to his first owner, the young man agreed and sold it.

When Starsky opened the fancy little box, he found the Torino's keys inside it, which all red and white and sparkling like Santa Claus was parked at the curb waiting for him.

******************S&H*********************

"May I drive her?" Starsky asked timidly.

"It's your car, Starsk," Hutch answered thrilled.

He looked at Caroline. "My Cah... yeah. This is my Torino, Cary; I'm glad you're gonna meet her. May I go with her?"

"I always knew that you rather like her over me, but be my guest, Motek." the girl said lovingly. She smiled, and he moved his head in agreement, but first, she went to pick a jacket for Starsky into their room.

It was cold outside, and she didn't want him to catch a cold.

When she came back, she gave him a sweater.

Randomly, she handed him the old Mexican that he used to wear back in the seventies. "Take it!" she said, "It's cold outside, and I don't want you to get a cold. Warm up yourself, honey, this is snug enough," she said without realizing, and he voiced one silent thanks.

He gave her a kiss on her cheek and hurried with his usual strut and swaggered toward the car.

Hutch closed his eyes to the motion postcard of the old days.

Starsky, his sweater and the Torino.

A perfect threesome.

The brunet rubbed his hands, "I'm nervous. It's been a hell of a lot I don't drive but... I think I can do it."

"Of course, buddy, you can."

Starsky was already sat at the steering wheel looking through the window, and Hutch was crouched beside him. The brunet made a grimace, he was worried and needed reassurance.

"It's okay. You did not have any fainting lately, did you? Besides, she's always been gentle with you and you know how to treat her. She won't disappoint you." Hutch smiled and winked his eye.

"I wish it's me the one who doesn't disappoint her."

"You won't. I even propose that you can carry every one of us wherever you want tomorrow with the striped tomato. Whaddaya say?"

Starsky started the engine.

"Yeah… but she's not a striped tomato." The brunet closed his eyes listening to the roaring, and so did Hutch. "Remember she's candy apple!" he finished.

He winked his eye too. Hutch was visibly grief-stricken.

"Come on, Hutch, sit. That would be great, to take everyone, but for now, I just wanna go to the Pier and take you there. Tomorrow I'll ride across the city with her… will you come with me tomorrow too?"

"There's nothing more than that I wanna do in the whole world!" the blond man said choked by tears.

"Okay, I'll pick you up at the usual time, like in the good old days. Whaddaya think, you'll be ready?"

"I will."

******************S&H*********************

Next day, Starsky was at Hutch's door at their usual time.

The roar of the engine approaching Venice Place brought tears into the blond's eyes, he couldn't disguise. But he decided he was going to enjoy the company, no matter what.

So, he cleaned his face, put a brave front, a smile on his lips and got out the door.

It was about time to face which maybe could be his last trip with Starsky riding shotgun in the Torino around their beat.

That moment, destined to be unforgettable, didn't disappoint any of them.

It turned out to be poignant and full of emotions and memories.

Every corner of the city enclosed an anecdote.

In that street, there was the memory of a robbery. One shooting or a girl doing the night in every traffic light. Every alley talked about pursuits, and the whole city was the symbol and testimony of their struggle to beat the devil and how much they loved doing it.

Hutch could not help but look at Starsky while he was driving through their streets with the ease of always. He looked at him sideways.

And everybody else who discovered the Torino looked sideways and were moved by the same feeling too. Even the junkies and the outlaws.

Hutch wanted every moment, every curve, every acceleration, and braking would remain forever, etched in his memory. So many moments they had enjoyed together in that car...

He no longer realized if the smell he smelt was from the musk perfume of Starsky's aftershave lotion or the leather upholstery or both.

The mingled essences of his friend's body.

Starsky's car was as much as his blue Adidas.

It was a part of him.

"Hutch, when I die… Would you like to keep her? Would you be up to it?"

"Oh, Starsk!"

"Hutch! Will you?"

"I will. I wanna keep the Torino, buddy."

Starsky smiled, thankful.

"Thanks. Remember to wax her, check her oil, do the proper maintenance to keep her running right." Hutch rolled his eyes. "You can drive her too, and take my kid to the Park or our beach together. Tell him our stories", he suddenly changed his face in sorrow and worry, "but don't scare him…"

"Him?"

"Yes. Undoubtedly my baby's a boy."

"Oh! Anyway, How come I scare him? How could I?"

"Well, no, not scare him I mean, you know, don't overdo it! Don't make him believe that I was some kind of a hero, neither get him too excited with this, you know" He changed his voice to a deeper one. "Zebra III, ten four, the radio, the guns and so, all this police officers' toys and this stuff. You know the kids! They think that we're like TV stars. I don't want him to believe that I was brave, either. I don't want him to admire me just like I idolized my father because I don't know if I want him to become a cop when he grows up. It's way too dangerous, I want him to be something else, something better than I was", he said proudly.

"Well, that will be hardly possible and tough to achieve for your kid, my friend."

"What?"

"That he can become into someone better than you are."

Starsky smiled at the compliment.

"When did you turn into a bootlicker which I didn't notice? Where's the old Hutch? Where's my buddy? I miss my friend!" He smiled at his joke "I miss your lack of condescension; the all too familiar signs of smugness or simply the false earnestness and self-satisfaction you used to put over me, OMG! The things I have to do to being valued!" He shook his head and smiled.

"You don't like this new version of me? Never too late buddy, never." Hutch said.

And they both smiled a big, big smile.

From that day on, they decided they wouldn't remember his cancer or those other things that had been tormenting them for the past six months.

Starsky chose to enjoy a life full of affections, family, friends, and memories, and all of them agreed with that.

He made up his mind about his car and started enjoying again his driving… At least the Torino could take him wherever he wanted to go as Hutch had predicted.

His partner was always right.

The last days of the year were spent in that fashion.

A brand new year was about to start, so they realized they should think of it in a more positive way despite everything. Hutch insisted that they needed to start 1984 with a promise of a future.

And then he invited them to take a look at that future.

******************S&H*********************

"Caroline, come on. Starsky's very anxious. You do it for him, please? I think that it would make him feel good if he might be able to see the baby."

"I know Hutch, but it's still too soon. I mean we should better wait until mid-January. We'll have a better picture of everything at that time."

"Give it a try, Cary. Trust me. What if he can see something? One heartbeat, uh?"

Hutch's insistence paid well, and the last day of 1983, before New Year's Eve, they saw their baby for the first time. Starsky took Cary to Memorial, in the Torino of course, and Dr. Stewart, the obstetrician, practiced an Obstetric ultrasound over her.

The baby was a boy.

Just like he had predicted it.

A healthy, beautiful and vigorous boy and he saw him; he saw him beating inside Cary.

Starsky saw his baby.

Hutch was thrilled.

The blond thought somehow that it was a good sign.

Therefore the last day of the year, they sang, danced, ate and drank remembering the old celebrations they had enjoyed with their families and together. And when the lights of the afternoon dimmed, and the first stars of 1984 arrived, Starsky proposed a toast.

It was good news he had made it to the New Year and with his healthy baby growing in Cary's womb.

There were a lot of reasons to honor, then.

Everybody was celebrating at the Beach House, on New Year's Eve.

It was a party of sorts. Starsky felt that he had lots of things to be thankful for so, with the fireworks launched from the pier behind him as a framework, he cleared his voice and said, "And we're here. Well, I am here. I arrived in 1984." He smiled. "If I make it to March, at least I can say that I might live one more day because this is a leap year," everybody laughed at his prank and then he said earnestly. "No, really, what I mean is when you're healthy, you don't realize what that means. Although the end of each year always brings reflection to everybody, no one understands what life means until you are threatened with losing it. It happened to me twice in my life. I'm an expert, and this is a place I know." He shook his head and so did everybody else as he went on. "Anyway, I'm not sure if this time, I'll be able to overcome all odds against I have ahead. Chances are, in fact, that this will be my last New Year I must say," They were silent in his calm demeanor… "But somehow, I feel lucky that I have this opportunity. Grateful, that I've got the privilege to know in advance that it will end, soon. Maybe because of what has happened to me before, when Gunther, I mean, hasn't it Hutch?" He raised his eyes to his friend who nodded. "That other time! Boy, it was unexpected! Very hard not being able to say goodbye, this seems fairer. That's what I mean. I have the privilege to reach the end of my life, aware. Knowing what and why I have lived and stand for; that everything I did, it had a meaning. How I lived had a meaning. I'm leaving, but I'm feeling valued and loved and cherished. Surrounded by the people I love. And I know what I mean for you, and I'm also happy for being able to tell you what you signify to me…" he smiled fondly and nodded. "Yeah, this is fairer!" He opened his arms to his friends, hugging them with his soul. Neither of them could utter a sound. "Do you understand? I'm going to leave this world with no regrets and without surprises even in silence and quietly because I have lived a beautiful life. My life was full of energy, friends and ambitious enterprises and challenges I fought bravely for. All I did, it was to make this a better place to live, a better place that my kid will enjoy." Everyone was about to break at the heartfelt words. "I'm sorry I get emotional, but I won't waste this opportunity this time, I just wanna say that there are two important things to do in life besides living, of course," Starsky made a pause, and Hutch interrupted him with his usual routine.

"Well, that makes them three things actually, Starsk…"

All of them smiled.

"Okay, three things, then ... yep, living life should be the first, you're right, partner. So the second's to stay positive and always look on the bright side of things, and the third is to define the future. Redefining the future from that perspective. Everything's a matter of perspective. You know, I heard once someone said that the lobsters that were on the Titanic waiting to be roasted thought that what happened was surely a miracle itself, wasn't it?" Everyone laughed. "You should know that the future means the next hour, the next second, tomorrow and the next year as well, don't you guys go much further than that! Enjoy each moment living positively, because each moment contains a little future. Thanks for joining me in all my futures. You're not gonna get rid of me that easy, I promise, I'll always be there in yours!" He raised his glass and bowed his head. So all they did.

"To Starsky's Gospel," Hutch raised his glass in unison smiling with zest and added, "and to many, many futures."

And everybody stood to kiss him and hugged him.

Everybody was very moved by the beautiful and unforgettable moment.

Anita, Minnie, and Huggy felt bereaved, even Starsky, seemingly stronger than them, comforted them. Huggy was very ashamed he couldn't be of any solace at times like these. But he just couldn't.

"Hug, Hey buddy. Hey! Take it easy and don't try to pretend. I don't care you are a softy. After all, this is the reason you're my pal since High School, uh? I want you to never change, Hug."

"Starsky, my man!" He shooked his head, "I should be brave for you, but I'm not. I'm sorry. This is awkward because I'm supposed to be grown-up."

"I rather like you in the odd way you are than being an annoying adult. I'm not mature myself either." Starsky said, and he made a weird face and Huggy laughed.

Nothing and no one would be sad this day, it was a celebration, love's celebration.

Hutch was sure that the New Year would bring the beginning of something new. 

**ACT 43 -THE BEGINNING OF THE END -**

It was January the 12th, 1984.-

The week before, Starsky and Caroline had gone with Hutch to Dobey's cabin in Pine Lake.

Starsky wanted to go just with his friend, but then, they decided that it would be better if Caroline also went, just in case something related to Starsky's health turned out.

As a result, four days after the first Day of the year, from 4 to 10 January, the threesome had taken a deserved getaway, and they spent an incredible time together in the woods.

Fortunately, Starsky felt good enough, and he had done almost all the driving up there, with the Torino, of course. He insisted on taking the Torino instead of the Camaro.

Hutch had felt a little bit mushy during the trip sometimes; he couldn't help but remember the good old days and the endless anecdotes with Starsky while they had gone camping in the past.

That's why he had decided they should keep all the rituals in the mountains and so he did.

Hutch had performed the same silly jokes he liked to play with his buddy and Starsky had felt the same irrational fears he used to feel always.

They had had a great time together.

Nothing seemed to have changed, except for the fact that they had spent long hours rummaging around the pages of the "Baby's Names" book instead of fishing.

Caroline had insisted on carrying the book to the mountains to find the proper name for the baby.

***********************S&H***********************

_"Wasted hours! Just to decide that the child would be named David after me. What else?"_ Starsky had thought, and he had realized nobody would convince Cary of another name.

"But that's against tradition! I'm still alive!" He said exasperatedly.

"That's why I want to name him after you because I'm challenging tradition! We're gonna test tradition!" She said, expecting that his life's outcome would be different that the odds against. Hopeful, that things were not going to be as it seemed to be, that nothing would end in the "traditional" way in which his diagnosis usually ended. "That's why I want him to carry your name! You're also named after your father, and there's nothing wrong with it." She rebuked. "I'm against tradition! And so you are, I thought. That's why I love you, and that's why you love me.".

"I hope that it wouldn't be a burden to him," He said reflexively.

"It won't be" she hugged him, happy for his acceptance. "Besides there's no other name that sounds that sweet with your surname! David Starsky is music to my ears; you're music to my ears. I wish he could be half of the man you are, Motek!" She smiled and kissed him.

"That's it! Okay. It's a lost battle, I guess." he gave up, and she frowned. "David, it is!" Starsky said deflated and stood up. "But without Jr., please. Don't call him Jr. I hate it! It's derogatory, okay?" He said.

"You're terrible!"

"I am not!. Junior? Do you really know what it means?" he asked her.

She rolled her eyes, "Yes, of course, I know! It means younger, what else?" she ended perplexedly.

Hutch couldn't help but enjoy his buddy's antics, those which he had always witnessed and known damn well. However, Caroline - a novice yet in 'Starsky's land,' couldn't fathom where his words were going. "What are you laughing at, Hutch?" she said irritated. The blond-haired man only nodded and waited.

"Yes! She's right! What are you laughing at?" Starsky mirrored his wife's words.

"I know YOU, buddy! And I know how this is gonna end!" Hutch said on the verge of cracking the loudest of laughs he ever dared to make in his whole life.

"This is serious, blintz. We're talking about my baby here. I'm trying to explain to Cary that "junior" not only means what she so innocently thinks, it also means that someone is lower in rank or status than someone else. And my kid will never be a lesser man than I am, either smaller nor my second, okay?" He finished indignantly.

"Oh! You're lovely!" she said, and ran toward the dark-haired man and hugged him, "I love you so much!", until that moment, she had never realized what he was saying.

"That's what I've been trying to tell you!" Hutch said, knowingly.

She watched her husband enraptured, "Okay, we'll never call him Junior. I promise!"

Starsky's face brightened, and they all laughed, until the moment that tiredly, he sighed and yawned. "Anyway, I'm wasted! Need to go to bed. You come with me?" he asked his wife.

"I'll be! right away in a jiffy, honey", she said with a soft, tender smile.

He winked and closed the bedroom's door behind him with a smile.

Hutch and Caroline stayed silent for a while, staring at the empty space that Starsky had left.

Their minds were just elsewhere, away in one memory, until Hutch started talking to her again. He shook his head. "I can't believe that this is happening, that he's this sick, and he's gonna die. You'll see Caroline, they're wrong. It won't happen, can't happen. I can feel it."

Starsky had already fallen asleep; she had checked a few minutes before, and they were alone in the living room beside the chimney while they were drinking a cup of hot coffee. Hutch's stare got lost who knows where; the girl stayed silent. Her gleaming blue eyes fixed on the fire until he regained talking again.

"I mean what if he recovers? Because he seems so vital and healthy, Cary. He's eating better than before, did you realize? And... Maybe, I mean, what if?"

"Hutch, Hutch…" she stopped him and shook her head. "Hey, I don't think that it would be possible."

"But…"

"Hutch!" she shushed him. "I would like not to be a doctor at this time, but I am, and I think that's highly improbable that it could happen. SCLC in stage 4 like his is unlikely to turn into remission" she shook her head sadly.

"That's science! I'm talking about miracles here, and I've seen miracles before; Starsky is a miracle. He died before, Cary. I saw him die once, twice, and I've been there beside him every time, every time… saw him dead and he always came back to me. Now, I'm here again, don't you realize? Everybody thought that he wouldn't have any possibility to survive before, and he did. Why not now?"

She smiled and raised her eyebrows. "Well, there's a chance, there's always a chance," she said hopefully.

Hutch trembled at those words; those same words that mirrored Dobey's words back after Gunther at Memorial that other time.

Like a mantra.

"I wish it could be the same," he said, pensive, although Caroline didn't understand what he was saying; her silence was sufficient to answer.

They spent the rest of their little vacation at its fullest and enjoyed each other every second. There were moments in which they forgot everything that was going on; Starsky felt good, and they even fantasized in recoveries.

That was the way it had been until today.

Today it was even better; the brunet felt overjoyed.

It was Thursday, January 12th, 1984.

*************************S&H**************************

"Murray! Shit! Look at this."

Charlie Garrahan had just arrived from Cedar's Lab. They had sent Starsky's tests for further confirmation to the renowned laboratory just to be sure that what the doctors from Johns Hopkins had said about the Cisplatin was still happening.

That the drug had started helping him.

From the day they had stopped the Carboplatin, they were waiting for the confirmation to come. The holidays and the Christmas' layoff had delayed the results, but although the day had arrived late, they couldn't believe what they were reading.

They couldn't believe it at all.

The CT scan and Lab Tests were categorical.

The Pet Scan too.

"Man… Oh no! It can't be."

"But it is, John." Garrahan shook his head in disbelief. "I've told you, old man! We have to do something, and now. We can't let this pass as if nothing."

"Yeah, that's right, still… I don't know. I can't tell Caroline what we have found out yet, not until we have a real confirmation with a new PET."

"You mean another one?"

"Of course another one! You were right Charlie; we have to put him back in chemo, whether he wants it or not. There's no need to change what it's working; we just don't have to focus on the side effects. It's about priorities, and we chose. I mean it's still working, and it's been proved that the drug has done a good job with his tumors, so my best advice is that we keep on pumping him. Maybe three more batches, what do you say?"

"I agree. Do you want me to call?"

"No, no. I'll do it. I'll call Caroline, first. I don't wanna crack the news like this, but I have to find some way. I'm not gonna make any foul play, but I won't tell her everything, I don't wanna jeopardize this, but she has to know something at such point. I think that she won't suspect in me. Neither I wanna raise her hopes too high in vain. I rather am cautious. I better tell her part of the truth and then shut up until we're sure. Until we perform the next Pet, we're not gonna say what we've just found out, and that's final."

"And when can we make it?

"What about tomorrow?"

"That's good. Yeah, as soon as possible. When are you gonna call her?"

However, they weren't on time.

*************************S&H***************************

"Dave, c' mere."

She was sitting in the rocking chair by the window; embraced by the sun rays that drew the small profile of her little belly.

It was a vision that Starsky loved seeing.

"What?" he said.

"Gimme your hand, c' mere."

"Wait! I'm finishing the mainmast, Cary, hold on."

"Believe me! You don't wanna miss this, Motek, hurry up!" she said intriguing and tempting.

"What?" He was by her side anxious, he didn't like to be distracted when he was crafting his ship model, but Cary insisted.

"Gimme your hand" she took his hand and put it on her belly.

He opened his eyes and his mouth in ecstasy.

"Can you feel him?"

They engaged their glances. He was in wonderment while little Starsky boy started moving again.

Their eyes were wet with wet happiness.

"I feel him. Oh, Cary! Now I actually can touch him. He's so small, and his touch's so feeble", he said excitedly.

"Like the flutter of a butterfly… yeah, but he's here."

"Yes, he is, my love. Oh! Thanks, God!"

And they both smiled.

The previous two weeks had been excellent and pleasant. Perfect. After they had come back from Pine Lake, they had enjoyed long trips to the beach in the Torino, despite the winter. Starsky was a PCH junkie, so he loved to drive his car every day to the highway and the Coast enjoying the scenery and singing loud with the radio. He enjoyed his car very much, and he felt as if it had been the best gift he had ever received in his whole life so far; he felt like a kid. Besides it had been a while, he didn't feel that good.

No fainting, no coughing.

Nothing.

And finally, this day among the others, his baby.

On Thursday, January 12, 1984, he felt his baby moving inside Cary's womb! He had met his child, something he had longed for and was afraid of wouldn't experience before he dies.

He was happy.

He tried to find Hutch to share the good news about his baby with him. He tried to find him since midday. However, he hadn't been lucky enough.

"_I've touched Davey, Hutch. I have felt him… For Christ's sake! Thank you, God! Thanks for your mercy! Where are you, buddy? I need you to know, Hutch. Answer me, pal, where the hell are you?"_ He thought while he insisted on the phone.

The news was so important to him; somehow, he felt he could go away now though first; he wanted to share the feeling with his pal.

To telling Hutch, he had felt little Starsky.

However, he couldn't find him!

The brunet was getting increasingly agitated and disturbed.

"Come on buddy, pick up the phone," He said aloud and with the receiver in his hands. It was two in the afternoon.

It had been two hours since he had been trying and trying.

"Come on Goldilocks where the hell you are? I have something terrific to tell you!" he repeated.

It was ten PM; he had spent all day long trying to reach Hutch.

But nothing so far.

No Hutch.

He had called the Precinct and even Dispatch twice; he had asked Mildred whether she could patch him through Zebra III, but nothing! He knew nothing about Hutch, until the moment he found Dobey, and the Captain told him that his partner would be in a stakeout all night, that he wouldn't get to him until the next day.

The news nearly floored him.

Suddenly, Starsky became pensive and distraught. He realized that although his existence had vanished, the world out there hadn't done the same, and he missed his old life. The brunet felt very sorrowful, somber. He put the receiver on its cradle and lost his sight in the wall in front of him. As if he had realized his situation; as if it had sunken deep in his soul, that he wouldn't be a cop anymore; as if he hadn't already known before. However, the same old news seemed to have shocked him again to his core.

After talking to Dobey, Starsky started crying. He had an infinite sadness that he couldn't relate to anything. He began feeling breathless again and didn't know why he felt so distraught while he had experienced such an intense feeling of happiness earlier.

He felt profoundly sad; above all, definitely finished. He couldn't say it aloud, but somehow he felt that he was already dead, that he had reached the end of his existence. To meeting the baby, sort of, it was what he was expecting. And the time had come, and he also realized that it had meant the end. His end.

"_How many more confirmations do I need to understand that I'm already dead?"_ He thought.

Caroline got scared, and she worried; she realized how depressed his husband began feeling all of a sudden. She realized that something was different about him, misplaced and very wrong; she feared that the way in which he had started feeling was not any ordinary crisis as if he had been stabbed, repeatedly. She knew... something had been broken inside him. He had become taciturn and absent, strangely; like spaced out.

And that fact was tormenting her, since his pain, she also knew, was beyond repair. Starsky's physical pain and emotional pain were out of her hands.

She was afraid of what would come next since she had started hearing his short gasps and his difficult breathing again. Those same hated sounds blessedly missed for so long were there again, and she didn't dare to imagine why.

She was scared; and she knew that something else was about to happen.

"Motek, what's going on?" she asked him. They were in bed, at night, and she was listening to his awkward respiration, so she asked him "Are you okay, honey? Are you short of breathing or something? What's going on?"

Something was terribly wrong.

"S'nothing… I'm kind of winded. It's just" he made an endless pause, "I feel a little chest tightness that it's been a long time I didn't experience." He tried to fill his lungs, he stroked his chest and grimaced. "Guess I'm beaten. I better catch some shuteye. I'm very excited about the news, Cary. Don't worry sweetheart. I feel good."

"Are you sure you don't want your portable?"

"Nah, it's okay. I'm tired; that's all. I'll be all right!"

And they both fell asleep.

***************************S&H****************************

The morning after, at 10 AM, Hutch's extension at the Precinct rang again.

It was Starsky.

"Hutch, Hutch…" The brunet sounded excited and lighter than the day before.

"Hi Starsk, I was gonna call you just now. What's happening that you're so excited? They told me that you had phoned me many times." Hutch said from the other side of the line.

Starsky had called the Precinct for the umpteenth time, and even he had talked with Mildred again to patch him through Zebra III. Now it was Friday 13, and he finally got to his buddy.

"Yeah! I've been looking for you since yesterday" he said eagerly.

"I know! So what's going on? I've been trying to catch Freddie "Ice-bones" Valdez… that's why I've been out of commission, dammit, I'm sorry."

"Oh! It's okay, I know. Dobey had already told me yesterday. This Freddie's the new pusher who's poisoning the city, isn't he?"

"Yeah, the very same, but it was a deadbeat, buddy" He sighed, afflicted "Oh, damn! I'm sorry I can't do this anymore. I'm so sorry…! I feel like a phantom limb out there without you, Starsk."

"Hey, you'll get through. You do it on my behalf, will ya? But listen, you cheer up! I have something terrific to tell you, buddy. You ready?"

"What?" Hutch was curious, something about Starsky's tone seemed to catch his attention, and he was interested.

"You are sat? You're gonna have a blast, blintz, trust me."

Hutch's interest was increasingly growing.

"Hey, what's the suspense for? You're killing me, Starsk."

"You don't imagine?"

"Oh, you're childish, man! Come on…" "_Could it be? Sure, yeah! He made some progress! They gave him the last report from Baltimore, and cancer's leaving. He looked so good lately! He will say that the tumors have disappeared… or are disappearing. No, no, maybe not gone but that he's better, sure. He's gonna tell me that he has made a significant advance"._ Hutch thought and got excited. "C' mon I'm ready!" the blond-haired man finished excitedly.

Starsky made a long pause.

"I felt the baby move, Hutch!" Starsky said full of enthusiasm.

"What?" he winced.

"The baby. I felt my baby, buddy. My David. I - I felt him."

"Oh!" Hutch closed his eyes and grabbed his head "You really?" Despite the tone, the flaxen-haired man could not hide his disappointment.

"What? You ain't happy?"

"Of course I am, buddy; this is excellent news, Starsk. When I leave here, I'll go over there to see if I can feel my nephew too. What do you think?"

"Yeah, sounds great. I'll be waiting."

However, this joyful situation, this sheer happiness was going to be very short.

***************************S&H****************************

It was 1 PM that same day when Hutch arrived at the beach house from the Precinct to celebrate. They enjoyed what had happened, and they talked gleefully. The two friends rejoiced in the news about the baby and before Hutch started to leave they shared an endless hug. Unexpectedly, while, in Hutch's arms, Starsky began trembling, and the blond realized that it wasn't because of the emotion.

Suddenly, something else had started happening and nothing good.

The brunet clung to him.

Hutch realized that somehow his partner couldn't let him go because if he did, he was going to collapse.

"Starsk?"

Starsky looked dizzy and confused.

"Starsk?" Hutch insisted with fear.

"Oh, Hutch," The brunet whined and said agitatedly.

"What is it, Starsk? What's going on? Buddy? Look at me, look at me, Starsky!" Hutch realized that his friend couldn't focus, that he was opening his eyes and mouth in a desperate attempt to catch his breath. He realized that Starsky was standing, barely.

That he was, in fact, more than stood, leaning on him. Supported on his body. Starsky was moving his left hand trying to keep himself rose and crashed into Hutch's chest awkwardly. He was attempting to grab his buddy, tried to catch him from his lapel though his movements were clumsy, and he seemed that he hadn't enough strength.

He was trying not to fall.

"Caroline!" Hutch yelled with his buddy in his arms. "Buddy, what's going on? I've got you; I've got you."

"Hutch? I - I,"

And he collapsed into Hutch's arms. Fulminating.

"Oh, my God, Starsky! No!"

The sick man was hardly breathing and lost consciousness.

Considering her status, Caroline gave him what little pulmonary resuscitation she could and put him on the oxygen mask to help him breathe, but neither could she know what had happened.

They called the ambulance and Murray, and they asked the doctor to wait for them at the Hospital.

They transported Starsky to Hope.

By the suddenness of the attack, she feared it was yet another clot.

She also feared, that this time it could be fatal.

The first day of their nightmare had just begun.

It was going to be the last.

*************************S&H****************************

"What happened? He was all right." Huggy asked, desperately when he arrived at the Emergency Ward at half past five. "Sam called me," he said.

Hutch was sat, alone, with his sight lost in the flat beige wall in front of him. He was confused and frightened and didn't know what to think or what had happened. He was merely sitting there, lifelessly while whispered and shrugged. "He fell in my arms, Hug," he said with tears in his empty eyes, "He looked like dead; he wasn't breathing. I… It was - it was very frightening. I'm terrified."

Two hours later, Hutch was still there when he saw Caroline, who was coming out from the restroom. She was just in time to hear what Dr. Murray had to say.

The doctor was leaving the Trauma room where they were treating Starsky and invited them to the private room to talk.

It had been five long hours of suffering and wait.

"Well, he's suffered a sudden blockage of an artery in the lung caused by a blood clot." The doctor said bluntly.

"You mean a pulmonary embolism?" Caroline asked concernedly and closed her eyes. "Oh No! Not in the lungs. Why? Oh, My God!" she finished saying.

"Yes." Murray sighed also concerned, "We had to rule out the possibility that the blockage might have occurred by one new tumor first, and it is not, fortunately. At first, we thought that he had other problems, maybe a heart attack, but the EKG came back okay too. The CT scan and MRI confirmed that it's only another clot. Although we have to wait for the final Pet exam of the…" the doctor sighed, "Well - uh…" Murray ended pensive and doubtful and rasped his throat.

"We're waiting for that test since the beginning of the year! How long will it still take?" Hutch asked. His hope had been severely threatened by this last and unexpected setback.

Hutch and the others were waiting for the Hopkins' Hospital report to arrive, but they didn't know that just the day before, Garrahan and Murray had already read it.

However this last unexpected event, this sudden attack had left the lab tests in the past.

Now they had to put matters into this new crisis if they wanted to have the chance to keep enjoying Starsky.

"Oh, from Baltimore? Yeah… When? What? They're not ready yet?" Caroline asked confused and frantic, "Anyway, I don't care now, I mean, what about the clot? Please, you're hiding something from me, John, what - what's going on?", at the time, she was clinging to Murray's green scrubs too.

John Murray was a man of few words.

He was a believer though he thought that it wouldn't be possible for God to grant another miracle for Starsky this time. The location of the clot in his lung was of primary concern; the damage done was far-reaching, and he wasn't immortal.

However, "_what if he was wrong?"_ He also thought about it.

Cancer could be very unexpected. He knew well. He had read the written test about it just the day before. The doctor sighed trying to find the proper words.

"John, tell us, please. What? How is he?" Hutch asked anxiously.

Murray stayed silent.

He had to make a decision.

It was not a matter of hiding anything; it was a matter of priorities. The doctor decided he was going to tell them part of the truth then, the worst part of it, unfortunately, but he thought that it would be better.

Starsky's condition at the time didn't tolerate any other measure.

"Well, now he's very grave. He arrived here hemodynamically unstable, so first, we stabilize him for clinical observation. Although we were sure at first that it was a clot we had to discard other possibilities and that took us a little time. As I said, cancer increases the risk of blood clots, and this was his second episode in such a short period. So after we confirm it, we realized that it had reduced the blood flow to his lungs and heart alarmingly. Unfortunately, as a consequence of it, the blood pressure in the lungs has increased drastically provoking pulmonary hypertension." The doctor inflated his lungs and continued. Hutch, Caroline, and Huggy were speechless. "As you know Carol, this is a very dangerous condition because it can eventually lead to right-sided heart failure and possibly death. That's why we've programmed the removal of the clot. We've just prepared him for surgery. We'll do it now, we've got no time for another kind of techniques neither will try giving him medicines to test their effects on a severely damaged body like his".

"You mean what? Are you gonna take him into surgery, now? To operate him? Are you gonna practice an embolectomy? Expose him to such a dangerous and critical surgery, now? I - I don't know if he can take it! I don't think that he's up to it, John, please? He's not strong enough. He's already too fragile." Caroline stuttered, begged; she was apprehensive and scared, she went ballistic. "Don't, don't do it, don't!" she repeated disconsolately.

"We must take this risk Dr. Novak, and you know damn better than I do!" John Murray shouted at his colleague, using her family name coldly, creating some distance and taking her out of her pain. She composed and nodded, the doctor spoke again. "Only after that, we can start with a thinner." The man in his fifties comforted her and reached for her arm. "But you don't worry, please. He'll be okay; we've tested him. Maybe he'll take a little time to recover, and it might be a dreadful time, I won't lie to you about it but… David's a tough guy," Dr. Murray sighed; he knew how dangerous the surgery was going to be. "Do you realize we've got no other choice, Carol, don't you?" the seasoned doctor finished, and the girl didn't say a word.

"What do you mean dreadful?" Hutch said desperately.

"Just that. It could be very dangerous. David could be even more serious than he's now," Murray frowned and uttered the words with much cautious, "and, he could be sicker too, and..." he hesitated, "but we have no way out."

"Could he die?" Hutch interrupted him and asked, devastated by the news.

"Yes." the doctor said carefully.

"What?" he said confused.

"Well, Hutch, this is one of, if not, the most dangerous and deadly surgical operations from a cardiological point of view. The mortality rates hover around 60%. So, yes! He can die in theater or shortly after that. It'll be a hard time."

"So why do we have to do this?" Hutch asked devastated and on the verge of crying.

"Because if we don't, he WILL die. We don't have much of choice, Hutch. You know that Carol, don't you?"

Despite Hutch's feelings, the doctor insisted on getting his colleague's emotional support. He was aware that the girl's consent would be the only way to convince the big, tall and blond cop and make him understand that there was no other way out.

"Yes! I know. Okay, okay, John," She said, firmly while Hutch sought her eyes full of questions.

After four long and endless hours in the OR with no word about Starsky, Murray came out of it saying that the surgery had gone okay.

However, they put him in an induced coma.

"He's in a coma. We put him on the ventilator. We have to keep him appropriately medicated to counteract the effects of the surgery and ease his pain and breathing; we're gonna keep him that way until Sunday morning at least. We have to let his body heal correctly and help him recover. You don't have to be scared anyway because he looks very ill." The doctor said quietly but warning all of them.

In fact, like Starsky had been saying and repeating endlessly he was weak and looked tired.

He was tired.

Now it showed how tired he was.

They spent the night in the Ward, the first twenty-four crucial hours as Murray had said were going to be decisive. If there wouldn't be any complications like infections, respiratory or heart failures or any anaphylactic reactions after surgery Starsky was going to be okay, hopefully.

Those were the most likely side-effects.

***********************S&H***********************

On Saturday morning, Murray, Caroline, Sam, and Hutch were gathered at Starsky's bedside.

They were talking beside him, and he just didn't notice.

He was still out cold.

"He looks weak; he keeps telling me that he's always tired," Hutch said appalled and in a whisper.

"Hutch, that's his liver's inability to function properly. That's what makes him feel so tired. If you look intently, you can see he's got a yellowish tinge to his skin a lot of times, and that's because of his sick liver" Murray informed him.

"Yes, because of the metastasis. Yeah, I know." Hutch said reflexively.

"Something I noticed yesterday, before surgery, is that the IV fluids helped him initially. I mean he brightened up a little, although asleep. So I guess that his liver's still working okay, isn't it?" Sam said, trying to sound encouraging.

"At the moment," came the short and sharp response. "I hope, and I'm sure, David isn't going into liver failure," Murray added quietly, trying to remember the friends the severity of the situation.

"That would be fatal." Hutch didn't ask this time. He just stated.

The three doctors nodded.

Caroline was utterly silent, by Starsky's side, holding his limp hand.

Sam sighed, and then Hutch asked. "But are you giving him something for his liver?"

"Hutch, right now he's having a sort of drug-induced hepatitis. The only treatment available is to stop administering some drugs, but we can't do it for the time. So we have to wait and pray."

"What?"

"Well, we only need to get fluids into his veins and wait. Just hang on." The doctor made a pause, entrusted to God; there was nothing else to do. "We're administering Zofran for his liver, remember? Not in a massive dose but he's still taking it, and if he recovers we're gonna start another batch of chemo. We think, either way, we're gonna launch the Cisplatin doses at its highest. I mean whether David wants them or not. If it's necessary, I'll take responsibility, and we're gonna put him in an induced coma for a while just to pump him. We were going to talk to him about this just today, but then, well, this happened and..." The doctor grimaced.

Caroline raised her head and frowned, "But Dave has been clear enough that he wanted to stop the chemo supplies," she said though she didn't want to. She was a very respectful person, and she knew how bad her husband wanted to stop it. She knew how bad he hurt, how jaded he felt about it, "Oh John if you insist…" She asked confused, "somehow you think that there's still a chance that he should take it? At least one more time if any, you mean?" As a scientific, she could hear behind Murray's words some promise. She couldn't hide the little glimmer of hope that the words of her colleague were providing her.

Murray shrugged. He didn't want to be final, but then, after the last results, he started thinking that they could try one more batch. He chose to be prudent, anyway. "Perhaps…", he said.

Caroline lowered her head and held it with both hands, she started sobbing. Murray hurried to comfort her. "Oh no! Why? Why now, John? What if? I mean, what if we aren't on time?" She said desperately.

"What? I don't get it. Please, I don't understand! Are you insinuating that you can do something to help him, that it would be possible to… to? Oh, My God! " Hutch asked, barely understanding what the doctors were saying.

"Yes!" she hurried to say, "And now, because of this damn clot, maybe we won't ever find out, Hutch." she finished desperately.

"Hey, Carol stop it, stop it… I said it's just a possibility, a what if," Murray stopped, lacking words.

There were no more words to say. Hutch was trying to find answers in everybody's eyes. Caroline hugged him; he needed some comfort.

They stayed dumbfounded for some time.

"_What if?"_ Hutch couldn't help but think about the what ifs. He was full of hope.

**************************S&H****************************

"Hutch, why don't you take Carol to the Cafeteria? I'll stay with Starsky here. You both need a little fresh air I could tell," Sam suggested them both and looked at Murray, who nodded in agreement.

"Yes, Sam! It sounds good. You can come back later; I assume that you're gonna spend the night here, to stay here with him, aren't you?". Murray knew in advance that they were going to stay. Hutch and Caroline nodded, and the Doctor added, "I can set things for you two to stay. David's gonna be asleep until tomorrow, so you can come with me now, take a shower at the Nurse's restrooms, eat some and get back here, okay?" The doc raised his eyebrows in sympathy.

They agreed.

The minute Sam saw both of them going behind Murray, he realized how scared Caroline and Hutch were. They looked like they had aged decades in the past hours; they were dejected. Sam had told Hutch the day before, during surgery, that he would be surprised if Starsky would be still with them by the end of winter because that was the way he just felt and he decided to prepare him. Now, seemed that the truth had sunk in him, at least that was what Sam perceived.

The cop had been shocked by Sam's words.

When the doctor told him, the flaxen-haired man rebutted and answered him that the same had happened before Christmas when Starsky was diagnosed with the mets in the liver and the other clot. But he stayed.

Sam thought that Hutch just couldn't accept it.

The tall guy was in denial.

The doctor also realized that it was more than a matter of stubbornness.

He realized that Hutch was sure that Starsky was a strong man and that he would overcome cancer. But regardless of his findings of Hutch's psyche, he was also trying to make him understand. Sam felt that, at least, Hutch was more open-minded about his friend's condition, and it was thanks to him since he had insinuated many times that his partner's death might happen soon.

It was his duty.

Sam knew that he had to prepare him just in case. Somehow, the doctor thought that the desperate man was starting to accept his friend's illness. To accepting, rather than fighting it as he did at the beginning of it all and that's why he looked so worn out.

Or maybe he was only a pessimist.

However, he couldn't see their friend being with them for a longer time, despite the fact that the doctors seemed to think that Starsky was going to last until the beginning of summer.

Sam was thinking about all these possibilities while watching Caroline and Hutch go. He was sitting beside Starsky with his sight lost over his still, very still body, when the blonde-haired man turned around, suddenly, and said. "Don't be pessimistic nor cut him short, Sam. You don't know Starsky".

It was as if he had been listening to Sam's thoughts.

But despite Hutch's optimism, the things weren't right, and Sam knew.

The first days after surgery were going to be heartbreaking.

*************************S&H*****************************

They couldn't find the words to describe the utter dismay they felt. The doctors said that Starsky would still be there by summertime, but they didn't know for sure, and sometimes neither they believed it possible indeed. The only certainty was that since the day that Starsky had felt his baby, he had begun to crumble. As if he had been waiting for that to happen to start to fail and let go.

Starsky was tired.

So tired that sometimes it looked like he would pass away in the next few hours.

Anytime.

"H... mush... time?"

"What?" she could barely listen to him. They had taken him out of the induced coma a couple of hours ago, and he was still groggy.

"Ho... long, hafta stay here?" Starsky talked for the first time since he regained his conscious, and he asked disconsolately. It was 2 PM on Sunday the 15th; he had wakened up earlier in the noon, after two days unconscious, and he felt and looked like hell. Caroline was freshening him with ice chips over his mouth; he hadn't eaten anything while he was hospitalized.

Not even broth, the only thing he could manage to eat.

"A few more days, a couple days maybe, until next Wednesday, I think," she said.

He motioned weakly with his hand to stop her, he couldn't take the ice anymore. "T' long?" he filled his lungs painfully, slowly and closed his eyes. He stayed that way for a long time as if he wasn't breathing, and Cary held her breath, scared.

"Dave?" She tilted her head asking,

"'s okay… 'm here, still..."

Every word took so much effort for him to talking; every one of them sounded like his last one, and it was terrifying. But suddenly, he opened his eyes in an epiphany. "Don't wanna die here, Cary!" he said correctly and disappeared into the pillow while closing his eyes again.

"Hey, you're not gonna die, my love. But you certainly have to eat. Come on, take it!", she tried to encourage him and offered him a spoon of broth. "Don't try to talk now."

"Cary…" he gradually opened his eyes "I can't…" he look into her eyes vaguely, "I don't have… Not mush time. It hurts. Can't… I" He couldn't catch his breath and closed his eyes. He was trying to tell her something, forcibly, but the lack of the air made him dizzy.

"Sh, my love, be quiet, it's just because of the anesthesia and the surgery. You take it easy, will you? And It'll be okay," she said trying to comfort him. She knew she was lying, the anesthesia was long gone from his system.

He stared at her with his eyes wide open but without seeing her, even more without understanding her. He was agitated. She realized that he was nervous. He didn't have enough strength, and he frightened.

"Calm down, my love, please?" she said smoothly.

He opened his eyes and tried to focus, "I…", he said.

"I love you too, Dave. I want you to feel alright... what?" He looked desperate. "What honey?"

After a while, when he caught his breath and concentrated enough, he added: "I wanna see Hush." There it was, without any doubt what he had wanted to say.

She relaxed, "He'll be here, in a moment."

"I really… need to see him," Starsky insisted, calmer. He sounded clearer than before.

"It's okay. I know, Motek. He's coming, soon."

"When? I need him now," he said impatiently.

"He's talking to the doctors; he's doing all the papers. You know Hutch." She started caressing him, and his eyebrows soothingly. "He's helping me a lot with everything, you know? But he'll be in no time."

"Time's running out," he sighed.

"Oh, stop it! Please?" she was desperate.

"You know it too." a bitter tear streamed down his face.

"Yes, I know that."

He sighed relief and closed his eyes. "Yes!" He said and slumped again in the depths of his pillow.

She had admitted it.

The first time she had admitted it!

***************************S&H********************************

The deterioration was evident, and everybody could warn it in the faces of each one of those who went to visit him. That same Sunday afternoon, at the last minute, the Dobeys went to see him. Starsky also realized when he was lucid enough, that they were all worried though everybody tried to disguise. It scared him.

In turns, everybody had gone to Hope as if they knew that it might be their last time.

Though he had slept all day when the Captain and Edith came over in the late afternoon, the visit seemed to have lifted the brunet's spirits at first, but then, it was touch and go. Dobey was devastated, suddenly he got out of the room, leaving Edith with Starsky and Hutch, who was also there.

The flaxen-haired man realized that something was wrong with his Captain.

"Cap?" he got out of the room too.

"I'm sorry Hutch. I can't watch Starsky's decline. It's heart-wrenching."

The Captain was broken.

"I know, Cap."

They were whispering in the hallway, outside the room when a nurse knocked on the door. She was carrying a syringe to inject Starsky with yet another medication.

Seconds later Edith got out of the room, too.

She realized the state her husband was in.

"Harold is time to go home now. We have to pick Cal and Rosie from my sister's. The kids have homework to do, you know?" She realized the man wanted to escape and, as always, she would provide him the proper excuse to go with it.

They left, having the feeling that maybe it could be their last time with Starsky alive. Dobey couldn't even drive the car, so she did.

When they arrived home, they sent the kids to their rooms and started talking in the lounge.

"I know. I also love David, but you'll do make it through. It's painful and very upsetting, Harold, but you must realize that Hutch's still here too. He's the one who's going to be left behind, and we have to help him! You can't throw it all away behind Starsky." Dobey shook his head no, and Edith added, "I know! But believe me, you'll do make it through."

"I'm still worried, darling. This isn't something that can have a successful conclusion. Bob Goodman told me that he thinks that it's unlikely that Starsky will be with us in two months according to his prognosis and you know, though it wasn't a surprise, to hear a professional saying it made it even more real. He confirmed my fears." He slumped in the armchair. Took some time to gather his thoughts. "God, I don't wanna watch this happening to him. When he told me two months, I had the selfish thought that I can't do this for another more couple of months. I felt muddled thinking that I don't wanna be here. I don't want these to be my last memories of him. Part of me wants to have as much time with him as possible. The other part doesn't want him to suffer this, for another couple of months Edith. I want this to end, and I'm ashamed", he sighed "but I don't wanna lose him."

"I know, I know," she said.

**********************S&H**********************

When the Dobeys left the Hospital room, Starsky started going downhill again.

Hutch had gone to eat something to the Cafeteria, and he was just about to enter the room to change shifts with Caroline when he saw her getting out of the room, visibly broken. He asked her how his friend was doing. "What's going on, Caroline?"

"Hutch, wait. He's very sick; it ain't nice to see." Caroline tried to prevent him.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"They don't know yet, but nothing good. You stay? He wants to talk to you since lunchtime. I think you better stay".

Hutch had been in and out of the room all day.

He had talked with the physicians in charge.

He had filled in forms and documentation regarding Starsky's hospitalization.

He had talked to the Dobeys and Huggy and everybody else.

He had run away.

He had been a swirl of motion all day, so she asked him whether he would sit alone with Starsky for a while because his friend needed him.

"I'll do. I'll stay".

It was 8.30 PM. She sighed deeply and concerned "Okay. Thank you. I'm afraid that he'll go quicker than even what I have in mind."

"What?" Hutch didn't think about such a possibility. "You are tired Caroline, and nervous. You're not thinking clearly."

Caroline hugged him; she was in tears, and so was he.

"Now, you go in there."

Hutch nodded.

When he entered, he could feel his buddy's loud breathing.

He could also sense his pain.

Though he still had bandages on his chest and back and two IVs on his right arm, he was curled on the bed in a fetal position, to prevent the scars from contacting with the mattress.

However, the way he looked, he was like doubled in pain seemingly.

"Hi, buddy." Hutch crouched beside Starsky's bed, at his eye's level.

The brunet was slowly breathing his rough little puffs.

"Starsk?"

The sick man didn't say a word. He had his eyes closed, until the moment he opened them, slowly; he sensed his friend's presence and gave him a little smile.

"Hey! It's so good to see your baby blues again, uh? How are you doing?" Hutch asked tenderly.

"I feel like shit," he said distraught.

"I know, buddy. What can I do for you?" the disheartened man started caressing his partner's head lovingly.

"You carrying your piece?"

"Yes," Hutch frowned.

"Then, shoot me," the brunet said, humorlessly.

"Oh, Starsky please!"

Starsky chuckled breathlessly and grimaced in pain. "Stay, Hutch," he said, and Hutch nodded "stay here with me."

Hutch couldn't answer, his eyes filled with tears and he had a lump in the throat, he just nodded. The brunet shifted his position in bed with lots of efforts. He was sweating, and he said he was thirsty.

"You want me to give you some water, buddy?"

"No. I can't take it, 's okay."

They stayed silent for some more time.

Starsky had his sight lost in his buddy while he was still caressing his curls.

"I just wanna talk to you. I'm sure there's only one thing I have left to tell you…"

"Just one thing?" The blond haired man asked softly and visibly moved; he kissed him on his forehead. "Oh, Starsk!"

The brunet sighed, gathering his strength, he had to do it. "I wanna tell you that until I met you, I'd never enjoyed the real meaning of friendship. I had Huggy but... nobody's like you."

"Hey, that's not fair with poor Huggy," Hutch said with a mixture of affection and pride.

"But it's true." Starsky waited for some time until he recovered his breaths again, he raised his weak hand and stroked his friend's cheek. "I love you, Hutch," he said and closed his eyes, his hand fell heavily on the bed. He smiled, satisfied and relieved.

Hutch was overwhelmed by the moment; he couldn't stop sobbing.

Starsky had never said it before.

With his eyes still closed the brunet kept saying, "I need you to promise me that whenever you're sad, or frightened or worried; that whenever you feel hopeless and helpless, that you are gonna remember me. That you'll try to see yourself through my eyes". Starsky opened his eyes, and Hutch just nodded, he couldn't talk. "Promise me that you'll never change. Remember? That was what Terry made me promise to her and, it worked. I could be happy after she left me..."

"I promise..." Hutch kissed Starsky's hand and started to say.

"And I want you to be happy after I'm gone." the brunet rushed to say, interrupting him; it seemed like he hadn't heard or that he wasn't sure he could keep talking.

They shared their glances in silence.

The blond couldn't take it anymore.

It looked like his friend had such little time in his that he felt that he was starting to break, couldn't stay beside him in one piece. Hutch didn't want to show him how frightened he felt.

Starsky closed his eyes, like vanishing and Hutch, wondered… _"When? When will it be the last time? When will it happen?"_ The flaxen-haired man bit his lower lip, holding back the tears.

Starsky was out of it.

He had left everything he had.

Hutch felt as useless as he had never felt and reassumed his place by his friend, thinking. He felt that death, maybe indeed, would be final, but the love that they had shared while they lived would be eternal, he also knew that. Hutch wanted Starsky to be at peace and in harmony; that he could leave this world, knowing that he had made the choices that made him feel happy and complete. That he was going to leave this world, knowing for sure, that he had made the people around him, happy and full, since happiness and completeness were what Starsky meant to everyone. "You've made me so good, Starsk; you are so damn fine… You are my brother." While he perceived that his buddy was slowly breathing, he was thinking about it. For a moment, it was as if Starsky had heard Hutch's thoughts too since he opened his eyes and said, surprisingly and out of his slumber. "I don't know if I'm as good as you think, pal. How lucky I am to have you. Thank you for the honor of being my friend and for being so compassionate and consider me so much." He smiled. "We'll see one day, Hutch. You and me, we'll meet again. I'm sure of that."

"Are you starting to say goodbye?" Hutch said, suddenly, and finally abdicating of his miracle.

Starsky nodded.

"I knew." Hutch closed his eyes, they were full of tears and sighed, "I love you, buddy."

And Starsky closed his eyes, to not open them again.

************************S&H***********************

For the next few hours, until the next day, Hutch stayed silent watching while his friend slept and breathed; his chest slowly raised up and down. He couldn't help but think.

"Where will you go Starsk when you die? Might you become a spirit and join the collective spirit of the universe? Will you be in the summer breeze or in the Santa Ana winds with fierceness and power? Or you might become a tree or maybe a flower, which blossom in spring, or a bird, free as a bird… Where will you go, Starsk? I won't ever forget you, buddy. You know, it's impossible to wipe away the good memories and our friendship no matter how hard I might have tried, the harder I tried to forget about you, the harder I failed. Where will you go? Could it be possible to just disappear? Don't be scared, Starsk I'll be near you. I will carry you, here in my heart, and you will carry me in your soul."

At Monday's dawn, he made a turn for the worst.

His body temperature was increasingly high; Caroline called the nurse frantically.

They needed to down his fever as soon as possible to avoid any unforeseen complications.

"Laura, please, try to contact John. I know something's wrong. I'm worried he could get an infection. He's burning for Christ's sake! Please take a Laboratory we need to know, and we need to know it now."

"Okay, Doctor."

Hutch was just entering Starsky's room.

"Cary? What's happening?"

"He's burning, Hutch! After you left his room, his temperature spiked, and he's burning. I'm afraid he could have an infection, and that could be fatal."

"Whaddaya mean fatal?"

"He can develop sepsis, and if that happens, I'm sure the liver couldn't be able to stand the antibiotics."

"What? You mean that he can die? Today? No matter what? That this is only a matter of when?"

She stayed silent, and that was sufficient response.

A few minutes later, the room's door opened, and Murray and Garrahan entered.

"What's going on?" they asked in unison.

Bob Goodman had just arrived at Starsky's room, too.

It looked like a conclave of scientists; for Hutch, that meant how dangerous the situation was. Regardless of his awareness, he realized that the physicians and the nurses and orderlies were starting to make frantic movements to assessing the brunet's condition.

That spoke volumes of how the outcome could be near.

They even didn't care to make Hutch and Cary get out of the room to spare them the terror.

They started working all at once and together.

They had no time to lose.

Starsky was unconscious but delirious. He was burning with a fever so after stabilize him, they whisked him to the ICU ward, immediately. Far from Hutch and Caroline and everybody else. 

Again, three long hours of silence and questions occurred.

************************S&H***********************

Hutch felt knocked down. Caroline was asleep, beside him.

He was thinking.

It amazed him that it was just the only thing he could do. He was tired of thinking, but he was unable to do anything else but think to get his buddy back.

It seemed notorious how he struggled with himself to try to believe what he was seeing. There was no easy way to think about his best friend's end for Hutch, so he resisted.

He felt as if he were facing his own death.

He was so devastated that he couldn't find any comforting way.

They were sitting in the waiting room when Goodman and Murray got out of the ICU to tell them about Starsky's condition.

"We have performed body plethysmography. David… well", Goodman sighed, "he developed Pneumonia and a severe lung infection that the antibiotics don't seem to defeat at first, but we have to wait, give it time. Our primary concern is that he can develop any sepsis or bacteria that can infect his bloodstream, so we're trying to prevent it. The worst of all is that we had to put him on the ventilator again, and he's receiving dialysis."

Bob Goodman had been clear enough; things were getting unfavorable.

"So he is…" Caroline couldn't have the nerve to say it aloud. Nobody could.

Starsky was dying.

Things were getting grim.

"It was a possibility after surgery that this could happen, but you know we had no way out of it. I - we, think that maybe we're stating the obvious, but I have to warn you again. I mean, now he has 24 hours' term to develop the antibodies to fight the infection, if not…" Murray sighed and shook his head. "Well, we have to wait."

"24 hours term? What?" Hutch asked concernedly.

"Well," The doctor gathered his thoughts. "His kidneys seem to be a little damaged, Hutch."

"And?" the blond asked.

The doctor sighed. "If they stop functioning properly, although we can't talk about renal failure yet, that would be a newly added pressure on David's body. We have to wait that he didn't go through that during this 24 hours period."

"Why?"

"Because if that happens, we might not be able to give him the needed medication to help him overcome renal failure. And then, liver failure will be next. And if he goes into liver failure he wouldn't be able to fight the infection. If that happens, I think that we can say that he'll be heading into his last 48-72 hours, most definitely."

It was true.

Starsky was dying.

*************************S&H**************************

They both stayed stunned at the news. 24 hours, 48 or 72 are too many little times.

When Caroline heard her colleague's words, she said. "Hutch, would you please go, and call the Rabbi?"

The blond nodded silently and went to the Cafeteria to call Rabbi Wainberg

Half an hour later the old and lovely man came to give Starsky the last rites.

They were all in Starsky's room. While the rabbi spoke in Yiddish the words, Hutch was thinking about such an amazing man his friend had been.

When the religious man left the room, Huggy and Dobey were just arriving at the Hospital.

Hutch had called them too. They were devastated.

The three friends sat in those flimsy, awkward chairs, and they spoke quietly about the unusual man his friend had been.

"You know, Starsky was the best friend I could've ever imagined I might have had. I love him so dearly."

"Was? Why Hutch? Why was?" Huggy asked timidly.

"I'm afraid we're losing him," Hutch said without hesitation.

"I think I'm gonna stay," Dobey said, and he settled in the chair.

"You can't give up, Hutch. Not you. I can't think about it. He's still alive and there's a chance, there's always a chance" Huggy said.

"Of course, there's a chance. Always a chance," Dobey whispered mirroring the old mantra.

"I don't wanna break down, but it seems so evident..." Hutch was utterly hopeless.

"Don't you lose your faith, please, it scares me. You have to keep upbeat Blondie, and strong" Huggy insisted.

"I don't know if I can be strong right now. Good grief, just thinking about the possibility of losing him makes me wanna die myself."

"You must. Starsky needs you."

Huggy and Dobey stayed there too, waiting, beside Hutch.

Another three hours went, almost unnoticed.

**********************S&H**********************

"Hutch?"

The blond startled, his heart rate accelerated; he was sleeping in the hallways, and when Caroline touched him he frightened, though he was exhausted, the woman decided to wake him up anyway. "Dave woke up a little; he can't talk because he's still on the ventilator, but maybe you wanna go and see him."

Caroline offered him, friendly.

He realized she needed some time out too.

He wondered if he could walk into Starsky's booth in the ICU and tell him how much he loved him without breaking in tears. Hutch feared he would upset his buddy if he saw his dismay. Starsky, his dear friend... he had always been more concerned about the other person's welfare than by his own; he was a very selfless man, and the blond didn't want to worry him, but no matter what, he needed to see him and had to be strong. He swallowed the lump that he had in his throat, and he did it.

He entered Starsky's room.

The hardest part, of being there, was to try to tell him how much he loved him, without it sounding like a goodbye.

Even though, it was a goodbye.

Starsky fixed his eyes all over him, without saying a word.

"I love you too, buddy."

That was all that Hutch managed to say.

Ten hours later, at 11 PM they took him out of the dialysis machine.

Five hours after that, they also took him out of the ventilator.

Those were excellent news although his state was still very fragile.

Huggy would be the one who would stay with him for a few hours, on Tuesday morning.

Cary had to make a major checkup for the baby with Dr. Stewart at Memorial, and Hutch would go with her so Huggy would stay with Starsky.

**********************S&H**********************

The thin man was sad and despondent too. They were friends from a lifetime and like everybody else he was feeling the loss in different ways.

"Starsky, my man, how are you doing?" He was sat beside his buddy when Starsky woke up, and he'd be there until Hutch and Cary finish the check up and come back.

"I'm here, still here."

"Hey, I know you're here," Huggy smiled tenderly, and run a rebel curl from his forehead, "I came here to take care of you, you know? That okay with you?"

Starsky looked like spaced out. Huggy didn't know if it was the morphine, the fever or what, but he was so out of it that the situation made him feel sad.

"Okay…" the breathless man managed to say, barely, but then he started crying "Oh, I'm sorry, so sorry I'm gonna die."

"Hey buddy, hey, hey." Huggy frowned, scared. He wiped his tears; Starsky looked like a little boy.

"I'm sorry. I can't cry in front of Hutch or Cary. I can't do that to them, but I'm scared. I ain't brave anymore; I'm a coward! I can't take it anymore, can't stick around here I hurt so much. I feel like... I wanna leave. Feel like I'm ready to die and I feel ashamed." Starsky started getting nervous and anxious.

"Hey, calm down. Relax, buddy. You don't have to be ashamed, why?"

"I can't fight this anymore, I wanna die. I'm sorry."

"You don't have to feel sorry for yourself," Huggy said nervously, he hadn't ever seen Starsky in that weak state before.

"Yes, I'm a coward. I'm tired."

"You are not! You're an amazing man, Starsky!" Huggy almost shouted.

"I am not. I'm nothing!"

"That's not true, buddy!. You're an outstanding man, which is what explains your self-willed determination to live. And you oughtta live!" The old friend admired his friend's strength and courage. It was not like Starsky that he could ever give up.

"I don't wanna keep on living, not anymore!" the brunet said determinedly.

"That's not true!"

"I can't." Starsky insisted.

"Yes, you can! You must! I've always loved you because of your resilience. Your persistent struggle against evil, your unconditional commitment to protecting people; I loved you because you were a fighter, still are. I still love you, don't disappoint me!"

"I can't do it!"

"Starsky, of course, you can!" Huggy broke, he started sobbing, didn't want to let go. "You're the bright side, buddy, and my hope. You've always been the bright side to me. I believe in you, Curly! You changed my life and everybody else's. To me, there's no such thing as death in a man as immortal as you are, Starsky. To me, you're immortal, buddy, and you'll live forever. You'll never die!" Huggy realized that Starsky was barely listening to him that in fact, suddenly, he started looking at him for a moment in utter confusion and then he moved his lips and raised his left hand to touch Huggy's face as if in recognition. Starsky grimaced as if repented and felt ashamed. He shook his head, weakly as if he had suddenly realized whom had he been talking to.

"Huggy? It's you?" he raised his head from the pillow "Oh Hug, It's you? I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I wouldn't have… I thought you were the orderly, but it was you! I'm sorry, Hug."

"Hey, why are you so sorry for?" Huggy asked him incredulously.

"I shouldn't have worried you about such nonsense, I shouldn't. I'm sorry. I thought you were the orderly."

"Oh boy! I love you Starsky. You don't worry so much about me now. There's no nonsense about you. You're important to me, and I can take whatever it takes to help you!"

"Thanks, for listening!" Starsky gave a little smile and panted.

After that, the brunet felt relaxed and accompanied; he was not alone, so he slumped his head again and tried to speak but was unable to utter another sound.

Huggy felt, Huggy knew, that his friend wanted to tell him something else, but couldn't.

It was very sad; he had wished to believe that some entity of Starsky would remain before he could say goodbye; his spirit perhaps after all, but nothing. His friend's body was shutting down, and so was his mind. Cancer that dwelt in him was responsible for such indignity or maybe pneumonia, or... whatever, he didn't know. _"How I'm gonna miss you, man,"_ Huggy thought.

The moment knocked Huggy.

"You're important to me, Curly. I love you, buddy, I always did," he said aloud, and he kissed him on the forehead while he heard him with his difficult breathing.

The old friend was there to say goodbye, so he stayed that way, looking at him for a long time and thinking. Huggy realized that though sorrow was a normal response to the loss, he felt more than grief. What he felt was despondency, dejection, shock, dread, incredulity, frustration, angst, misery, worry, and so many other feelings.

Death was a process.

He had witnessed the process before when his mom died, and Starsky was walking through those same stages that she did before. He looked at him and realized. From the last time he had seen him; many changes had been taking place. His skin was colder; he was barely eating, and he couldn't move. Sometimes when his friend was asleep, he liked to talk to him and touch him; he knew it was comforting and nurturing. He knew it made Starsky okay. Most of the time that Huggy had gone to the Hospital since Friday his friend had been sleeping. He even slept in and out of consciousness and talked at times; occasionally he was alert and sometimes he seemed to be unconscious. Every time, he was even more confused, and the doctors were struggling to pinpoint if it was the morphine or the liver problem or both. Murray said that it was the appropriate response of the body to the previous stress, but it unnerved him that the doctors were so quiet sometimes. As if they had already given up.

Even Hutch sensed that his time was running out, and the doctors were doing nothing.

_"Maybe there's nothing left to do."_ Huggy liked to go every day to the Hospital to see him since he felt that soon, everything might likely be over. _"And the doctors keep talking about normal responses of the body…"_

"Hug?" Starsky came back from his distant place, suddenly focused, and spoke to his friend; the brunet's voice took Huggy away from his reverie

"What, Curly?"

"I wanna have the music I like at my funeral. Can you arrange that? I hope everybody will be in high spirits at my funeral. Please, you help me?"

"Starsky what are you thinking of? There's no need…"

"Huggy?" he interrupted him, and Huggy realized that there was no need to pretend, that he didn't deserve it and that he needed to have some certainties before his final trip. The black man nodded. "Everybody will remember the buoyancy of your nature, Starsky. You can count on that buddy. I'll make sure of that!" he said reassuringly and then kissed him again while the brunet closed his eyes, tiredly and said "Thanks."

**********************S&H************************

Babcock and Simmons; Cheryl and Minnie and all Starsky's fellow officers at Metro went to the Hospital later on Tuesday. Everybody went except Meredith. She had just asked for a transfer to another Precinct in San Francisco, where she was from. She couldn't stay in Bay City anymore. Nothing was going to be like before, and nothing held her there.

Minnie was visibly heartbroken too. She was in the Hospital's cafeteria with Hutch.

"Oh, My God, Hutch, seeing my gorgeous Starsky hurting this way, well… I understand why he's stopped fighting, the depth of his words" she got lost in the memory and smiled sweetly, "You know what he told me?"

"No…" he shook his head, "you say."

She smiled tenderly. "Oh, Boy! He quoted Nietzsche, reminding me of his 'extraordinary ability to remember trivia and such things'" She felt very emotional and smiled; shook her head on the verge of crying, Hutch smiled too.

"And what did he say?"

"He stated that 'One should die proudly when it is no longer possible to live proudly' that is what he said. Oh, Hutch, this is very sad." He nodded as she kissed him on his forehead and stood, "I can't stay here anymore" Minnie said, and she left.

"So sad, yeah…"

But Hutch stayed.

He stayed.

He sat alone in the cafeteria which was just in front of the Park at Hope.

How could he describe the way he felt? It had been already five days, and he was not only going like an automat and still with very few tears but also he had switched off his feelings. That was the only way he managed to breathe. The only way he imagined life possible.

Little he knew that that Tuesday, the 17th January turned out to be the coldest day of 1984, and not only because of its low temperatures but also for everything else.

After day five, after Minnie's words, it caught up with him, and he broke.

"_If Starsky didn't recover what kind of life would I live?"_

He tried to put on a brave front and didn't cry in front of Starsky, but the brunet realized.

For the first time since Friday, he went home.

**********************S&H***********************

The sixth day, on Wednesday 18th Hutch fell apart. He had fallen asleep on his couch, unwittingly and when he awoke, he could sense it from the very first moment.

He was living in a nightmare.

That day, his first moments at his home after surgery he felt he woke up to a bad dream.

He had no other choice but to go to the Precinct, to fill some forms regarding his leave of absence, but he felt like the end was near, and he was suffering.

When he entered Metro, everybody felt heartbroken at the image of the big blond man who looked devastated. Nobody dared to ask him about anything since it was evident what was happening.

While in the Squadron, the phone rang and he answered in fear. It was Caroline.

She just told him that his partner had been asleep since 11 PM Tuesday night; that the last night, it had been hell. She said that the new medication was making Starsky felt very confused and delirious. She said that his buddy had been in so much pain, that Murray decided to administer him a nerve block because the tumors in the liver were affecting the nerves, and he was hurting so much. She informed him that he was not reactive. She told him that after they had given him those drugs, he became unresponsive and if someone tried to wake him, he just couldn't.

That he was very ill. That, unfortunately, the medication had caused a reaction, a kind of shock or something from which he hadn't recovered yet.

Suddenly, in the middle of the Squadron, he shouted in despair. Hutch was enraged. From the very moment he hung up the receiver, and he left Metro, he cried. And he couldn't stop doing it either while he was driving after his errands were finished and got back to Hope.

Just couldn't stop.

When he arrived at the Hospital Hutch froze at the image in front of him.

Starsky looked like dead.

Caroline told him that he wasn't drinking or eating either, so she was only putting a small wet sponge in his mouth.

So as his condition worsened, the more he was less prone to open his eyes and talk, let alone to his natural charm and confidence, the more they missed him. And they all became vulnerable and scared. Not just Hutch.

They were at Starsky's side in his room.

"What are you thinking of, lady?" Hutch squeezed her hand. She smiled sweetly and started talking without taking her sight off of her husband, "I'm thinking, that he's still the most beautiful man I've ever seen, Hutch. I'm thinking that I'm afraid of losing him; that his condition deteriorates quickly, and I'm scared."

Cary's words stabbed him in the chest.

Suddenly Starsky's feeble voice came weakly, out of nowhere as if he had listened.

"Cary…" he said, and he smiled his little smile.

He had awakened.

Hutch left the room.

He just couldn't take it, so, with the excuse that they needed some time alone he left the room when he felt the tears started to come.

Hutch cried outside, calmed down, walked back again.

He entered and left the room, many times, only to repeat the thing over and over.

Starsky was confused, but he had a tiny moment of being lucid, and he looked at Hutch and asked him why he kept walking out of the room if he was feeling okay. It was upsetting to see Starsky's concern for his buddy. Even at a moment like this, the brunet worried about his friend's welfare.

Hutch couldn't stop thinking.

It had been a beautiful, shiny and sunny Wednesday, quite fresh but bright, and it was coming to its end. He told Cary that she should go home, that he'd stay during Wednesday night. "You better go and take your rest. I'll stay. You should think about little Davey here."

"No, I can't. I can't go. I'll sleep in the Nurse's rooms" she said, "I won't go home, I just can't, but you're right, I'm tired. I better sleep in bed. I have to think in little Starsky."

She smiled her gorgeous smile and put her hand on her little belly "You just call me if something happens?"

"Nothing's gonna happen, trust me."

She made a face at him, "Anyway, if…"

He shushed her and nodded, "I'll do."

And she left.

The big blonde man stayed there, holding his friend's hand all night long until he felt numb. Hutch kept wondering, "_how could everything end like this?"_

He didn't imagine his buddy would go that way.

"_Starsky, the accident prone."_ He smiled at the uncountable scratches, toothaches, colds, sprain ankles and injuries his daredevil partner had sustained over the years. He also felt miserable when he remembered those other terrible moments. "_After Bellamy, after Gunther and all. Not like this. After all the shootouts, and bruises, the concussions, and everything. God, not like this". _

He always thought that his friend would be endless or that he would leave him suddenly from a heart attack, in the middle of hot pursuit. After Gunther, he had always been worried that Starsky could get shot again or that he would suffer another cardiac arrest any time, and that it would prove fatal. Anyway, he always thought that it would be quick, painless and that Starsky would know nothing about it.

He thought that that was the way he deserved to die.

"_Not in this endless and painful way."_

However, he found himself surprised that he already knew, that he had always felt, that Starsky would die first and that he was going to be the one left behind. He was aware of it since forever, sadly.

"_But never in this way. Not like this"._

He never imagined that Starsky could die from cancer. And the worst thing of all is that he could not stand up against anyone to stop it. To stop the pain and the physical struggle that his friend was experiencing and was so painful to think about, after everything that he had been through.

He had tried to help, but he couldn't cope.

Hutch realized that these four extra years had been a God's gift, sort of and that at some point, they had to end. He realized that undoubtedly he wasn't prepared to lose him in 1979, so Starsky had been waiting.

However, he also knew that the same pain was going to catch up with him again, and his best friend's farewell would leave him devastated and empty.

"_Nor I am ready now; I won't ever be."_

He also realized that he hadn't been strong enough to deal with this certainty at the moment, that's why he had been hidden from him lately.

Escaping, in and out of his room.

And in denial.

He felt ashamed of such a coward attitude; he didn't deserve a friend like Starsky.

During all night long, Starsky had never woke up, had never said a word, and had never flinched.

Hence, he had never felt so lonely.

The nurses indicated to him that he might go fast, without saying it, when he went downhill again during the wee hours. His decline had been very rapid, and they had to increase the morphine and change the antibiotics, once again. Hutch could feel that his friend was very sick that night; he could tell that after seeing Starsky the way he was, he was hoping that he would still be with them in a week's time.

But then, he thought that the wee hours were the worst.

The brunet hardly breathed.

Hutch was afraid to fall asleep, that he would wake up in the middle of the night, and his buddy had already decided to go.

It was hard to take.

It was the longest of the nights.

**********************S&H***********************

The next morning, on Thursday, the nurses tried to wake Starsky up, and he barely did, so they started washing him and freshened the room up. It was a lovely and friendly place there, and it looked more beautiful indeed when he opened his beautiful eyes and spoke a little.

He seemed to be better.

Starsky looked very restful and at peace. He rested quite well after that, and when he woke up again, hours later after midday, he even had regained his appetite, and the fever had begun to recede. Looked like the new antibiotic had done the trick and the doctors hoped that the next day the high temperature would finally be gone.

"Maybe he makes a turn for the better, hopefully." Hutch thought.

"Hutch! He's healing; he's getting better!" he heard the nurses say, but it was hard to believe. And although they were unable to be sure about his recovery at the time or bet on it, Thursday went by without any changes.

**********************S&H***********************

"How's he doing?"

It was Friday morning, and the night before Caroline had stayed at Starsky's side.

"I can't make up my mind about him, Hutch. I've never seen anything like this happen. From Sunday to Wednesday, he was so sick that I thought the worst, but last night he had a good sleep, and we enjoyed some time watching the news. He ate! He even looked like his old self. He was excited about the $11 million's Canadian lottery prize and the fact that nobody claimed It. The fever's gone, and he's okay!" she smiled happily.

She felt amazed and elated.

Hutch listened in an uneasy and small silence. "Well, but that's good!" recovered, the flaxen-haired man said full of excitement finally.

"Yes! This morning he's more alert than ever, and he has eaten a little toast too. He's drinking a lot."

"May I see him?"

"Of course, but you'll be surprised…" She said full of happiness.

"I like that kind of surprises, Caroline, and I am used to them too, fortunately."

They both smiled.

When Hutch entered his room, Starsky had a peaceful appearance over his face.

"Hey, Starsk. I'm so happy to see you're doing this well."

"Hutch!" his eyes and voice brightened up the room.

After hearing his buddy pronounce his name again so seemingly clear and focused after the last week, Hutch couldn't help but pounce on him to hug him. "I love you, buddy, thank you," the blond said.

He couldn't think of any better to say.

"You thought I was gonna die this time," Starsky squinted and said bluntly, there was no need to keep hiding the truth. He waited for a moment until he could catch his breath again and finally said, "I thought so too."

For the first time in a week, Starsky was fully awake, lucid, and consistent and with his cheeks rosy. His eyes were focused, and their glances intertwined like always. The recognition was very moving for Hutch, and he couldn't help but admit it,

"We were scared, Starsk, but at last you're back. You were sorely missed, buddy. It has been one week in hell."

He was doing so well on Friday, none of them could believe.

They had been so sure at that point; that the cancer was starting to take over; so sure, that his body was becoming overwhelmed with the disease, that this sudden elation was unreal.

The fear of watching a loved one go through that was the worst part of all. The anxiety to know how it was going to end and the fear of knowing that what the ending would provoke was going to be horribly sad was painful.

They couldn't make up their minds if the unforeseen recovery was a signal of hope, the last bout of energy everyone had before dying or what, but there it was.

And they were all grateful.

**********************S&H***********************

"Hutch, I called the Hospital earlier, and Cary told me that you were at the Beach house, but I needed to talk to you. Couldn't wait! You see, man? Starsky's doing better! He's a miracle!" Huggy couldn't help but confirm the great news with his buddy. He was incredibly happy. He called Hutch at Sam's House. He was excited about the news. The blond-haired man had gone to Starsky's place to pick some clean clothes for Caroline.

"Yes, he is!" Hutch said and suddenly repented, "We can either enjoy it or suffer it, Hug."

"Whaddaya mean? Suffer what? What are you talking, my Jedi man? Your craft landed on your skull?" Huggy was astonished.

"I don't know. I'm not sure if I should be happy or not because we're all aware that it's still approaching, we know that we can't make anything to stop it."

"What thing? Whaddaya mean?"

"I'm saying that I'm afraid that this can be the improvement that precedes death."

"This isn't," Huggy shouted at him, "Besides, in that case, it's evident that death becomes him. I mean, man! He looks fantastic!" the black man said excitedly.

"What do you mean?"

"I've just seen him, Hutch. He's doing better, really doing better! What if we can fool death one more time?"

"We can't. It's not just like the other times, Hug. We go away; we hide, and it comes back. He goes downhill, and then he gets better, another clot, another day. Damn Cancer's still there, always. And though Cary and I try to not lose hope, yet, is hard to stay upbeat. This is definite."

"It's Starsky you're talking about, Hutch. Don't forget it! And it takes just a man like him to deal with absolutes".

"Whaddaya mean?"

"You shouldn't underestimate his power."

"What's that?"

"Star Wars, 1977."

"That's an old movie, Hug! Starsky was fascinated with it."

"He was, and you have to think about its message now."

"And which is that message?"

"May the Force be with you, always."

"I need him, Hug; he's my force, without him I'm nothing."

"I know, my Jedi, and that's what I'm telling you. It's a matter of reciprocity. Only the two of you can bind the whole universe together."

"Yeah, I think so too." 

They didn't know what to do. They weren't sure if there was anything else that they can do but wait.

That was the last day.

That was going to be the last complication.

_To be continued..._


End file.
